HARMON 


RALPH  HENRY  BARBOUR 


-\ 


LEFT  HALF  HABMON 


"Go  out  and  play  full-back  as  it  should 


Left  Half  Harmon 


BY 
RALPH  HENRY  BARBOUR 


AUTHOR  OF 

LEFT  END  EDWARDS, 
QUARTER-BACK  BATES, 
FULL-BACK  FOSTER,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

LESLIE  CRUMP 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEW    YORK 

'Made  in  the  United  State*  of  America 


COPYRIGHT,  1921 
Br  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY,  IHO. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN     ...  1 

II    KIDNAPPED! 17 

III  HELD  BY  THE  ENEMY  ...       .       .  29 

IV  HARMON  COMES  TO  TERMS  ...  37 
V    THE  WRONG  BOY 53 

VI  FIRST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  ....  65 

VII  IN  THE  COACH'S  ROOM       ...  76 

VIII  THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATER     .  87 

IX  McNATT  ON  SCIENCE    ....  101 

X  ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH        .       .  116 

XI  THE  FIRST  DEFEAT      ....  128 

XII  " Do  YOUR  BEST"        ....  146 

XIII  A  FORTY- YARD  RUN     .       .       .       .157 

XIV  ONIONS! 167 

XV  MARTIN  CALLS  QUITS   ....  180 

XVI    DIPLOMACY 193 

XVII  McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM  ...  213 

XVIII    REVENGE! 227 

XIX  BLACK  PAINT        .       .       .       .       .239 

XX    EVIDENCE 250 

XXI    BOB  SAYS  So 262 

XXII    ON  PROBATION 274 

XXIII  MCNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY    .       .  287 

XXIV  ALTON  CELEBRATES  302 


. 


• 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Go  out  and  play  full-back  as  it  should  be 
played" Frontispiece 

1 '  You  don 't  come  that,  Harmon !    That 's  off ! 
You  hear  me?" 54 

One  brief  instant  they  tarried  to  admire      .     242 
It  was  Alton's  day  all  through      .      ...      .     310 


LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   THREE   GUABDSMEF 

AT  a  few  minutes  past  three  o'clock  on  a  par- 
ticularly warm  afternoon  in  late  September  of 
last  year  three  boys  removed  themselves  and 
their  luggage  from  the  top  of  a  Fifth  Avenue 
stage  in  New  York  City  and  set  forth  eastward 
along  Forty-second  Street.  Although  decidedly 
dissimilar  in  looks  and  slightly  dissimilar  in 
build,  they  showed,  nevertheless,  a  certain  uni- 
formity of  carriage  and  action  and,  to  a  lesser 
degree,  of  attire.  There  was  nothing  strange  in 
that,  however,  since,  for  the  last  two  years,  at 
least,  they  had  spent  nine  months  of  the  twelve 
in  the  same  place,  at  the  same  pursuits  and 
under  the  same  discipline.  The  likeness  of  attire 
was  less  in  material  and  color  than  in  a  certain 
tasteful  avoidance  of  the  extremes.  Joe  Myers 
and  Martin  Proctor  wore  blue  serge  and  Bob 
Newhall  a  brownish-gray  tweed,  and  in  no  case 
was  the  coat  snugged  in  to  the  figure  or  adorned 

1 


2  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

with  a  belt  in  conformity  to  the  dictums  of  the 
Rochester  school  of  sartorial  art.  Joe  and  Bob 
wore  gray-and-gold  ribbons  about  their  straw 
hats,  Martin  a  plain  black.  Each  of  the  three 
carried  a  brown  leather  suitcase,  and,  had  you 
looked  closely,  you  would  have  discovered  on 
each  bag,  amongst  numerous  other  labels,  a  gray 
triangle  bearing  two  A's  in  gold  snuggled  to- 
gether in  a  pyramid-shaped  monogram. 

At  Grand  Central  Station  they  crossed  the 
street,  showing  a  superb  indifference  to  the  traf- 
fic. The  driver  of  a  pumpkin-hued  taxi-cab, 
whose  countenance  and  manner  of  driving  sug- 
gested that  he  had  cut  many  notches  in  his  steer- 
ing-wheel, yielded  to  a  momentary  weakness  and 
jammed  on  his  emergency  brake,  thereby  allow- 
ing the  three  boys  to  step  calmly  and  unhur- 
'riedly  from  his  path.  They  seemed  not  to  have 
observed  their  danger,  and  yet,  having  gained 
the  sidewalk  unharmed,  one  of  them  turned  and 
rewarded  the  taxi  man  with  a  grave  wink  which 
threw  the  latter  into  a  state  of  apoplectic  anger. 

1  'Guess,"  observed  Bob  with  a  chuckle,  "we 
spoiled  his  entire  day!" 

"Don't  worry,"  responded  Martin.  "He'll 
kill  enough  to  make  up  for  losing  us!" 

Inside  the  station,  they  turned  their  steps  to- 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  3 

ward  the  right  and  set  their  bags  down  near 
one  of  the  ticket  windows.  "You  get  them," 
Joe,"  said  Bob.  "Here's  mine."  He  proffered 
a  five-dollar  bill,  but  Joe  waved  it  aside. 

"I'll  pay  for  them  and  you  can  settle  on  the 
train.  I'll  get  all  mixed  up  if  you  give  me  the 
money  now."  He  took  a  rather  fat  wallet  from 
an  inner  pocket  of  his  coat  and  stepped  into  the 
line  leading  to  the  nearest  wicket.  The  others 
moved  their  own  suitcases  and  Joe's  out  of  the 
way  of  the  passers  and  settled  themselves  to 
wait.  Martin  compared  the  watch  on  his  wrist 
with  the  station  clock  and  yawned. 

"Nearly  twelve  minutes  yet,"  he  observed. 

Bob  nodded.  "What  about  parlor-car  seats!" 
he  asked. 

"There  aren't  any  on  this  train." 

"Why  not?" 

Martin  concealed  another  yawn  with  the  back 
of  a  sunburned  hand.  "No  parlor-car,  dearie. 
You'll  have  to  wait  until  five-ten  for  that,  and  it 
isn't  worth  it.  I  wouldn't  wait  in  this  Turkish 
bath  another  hour  if  they  promised  me  a  special 
train!  Got  anything  to  read  in  your  bag?" 

Bob  was  about  to  answer  in  the  affirmative 
when  a  sudden  shout  from  the  ticket  window 
interrupted  and  both  boys  looked  across  in  time 


4  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

to  see  Joe  clutch  unsuccessfully  at  the  arm  of  a 
man  who,  swinging  away  from  the  window,  now 
started  to  run  fast  toward  the  nearest  exit.  Per- 
haps Bob  or  Martin,  had  he  sensed  instantly 
what  was  happening,  might  have  intercepted  the 
man,  but  he  had  a  good  start  before  either  of 
them  realized  that  the  black  object  he  slipped 
into  a  pocket  as  he  ran  was  Joe's  wallet,  and 
"so  it  was  Joe  himself  who  led  the  evidently  futile 
chase,  Joe  shouting  "Stop  him!  Stop  him!" 
most  lustily.  Abandoning  suitcases,  Bob  and 
Martin  dashed  after. 

The  thief  showed  skill  born  of  experience  as 
he  dodged  his  way  toward  the  door,  avoiding  a 
stout  lady  with  two  small  children  in  tow  one 
instant  and  side-stepping  a  bundle-laden  mes- 
senger boy  the  next  and  scarcely  lessening  his 
speed.  Joe  had  poorer  luck,  however,  for,  al- 
though he  got  safely  past  the  stout  lady  by  a 
miracle  of  dexterity,  he  came  a  cropper  a 
stride  beyond  and  went  down  in  a  shower  of 
parcels ! 

By  now  the  waiting-room  was  in  wild  con- 
fusion. Cries  of  ' 'Thief!  Thief!"  filled  the  air; 
those  about  the  entrance  were  trying  hard  to 
get  out  of  the  way  and  those  at  a  distance  were 
striving  madly  to  reach  the  scene.  Station  po- 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  9 

lioemen  hurriedly  joined  the  pursuit,  but  their 
quarry  was  already  on  the  threshold  of  freedom 
when  a  new  actor  made  his  appearance  in  the 
drama.  Just  as  the  thief  swung  toward  the 
doors  something  shot  through  space,  there  wa;j 
i  crashing  thud,  a  surprised  grunt  and  the  chaso 
was  over! 

A  boy  of  seventeen  unwrapped  his  arms  from 
the  legs  of  the  motionless  form  on  the  floor, 
arose  to  his  feet,  dusted  his  clothes  and  looted 
somewhat  embarrassedly  into  the  faces  of  the 
throng  that  had  already  surrounded  him.  A 
gray-coated  officer  pushed  his  way  into  the 
center  of  the  circle,  gave  a  quick,  inquiring 
glance  at  the  boy  and  leaned  over  the  figure  on 
the  floor. 

''He's  all  right.  Hit  his  head  when  he  went 
down.  Give  a  hand  with  him,  Conlon,  and  we'll 
get  him  to  one  side.  You  come  along,  sir,  till 
I  get  the  rights  of  it."  A  brother  policeman 
aiding,  the  thief,  now  showing  signs  of  conscious- 
ness, was  lifted  to  one  side  of  the  entrance.  By 
that  time  Joe  and  his  companions  had  worked 
their  way  to  the  front  and  Joe  quickly  told  his 
story.  j 

"Grabbed  your  pocketbook,  did  he?"  asked 
the  first  policeman.  " Let's  see  has  he  got  it. 


Sure,  he  has!  Is  this  it?  Hold  on  now,  not  so 
fast!  What's  your  name?" 

Martin  whispered  swiftly  in  Joe's  ear,  "Myer 
Joseph,"  answered  Joe  after  a  brief  hesitation. 

"And  where  do  you  live?" 

"Philadelphia." 

"Philadelphia,  eh?  What  about  making  a 
charge  against  this  feller?" 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can,"  answered  Joe.  "My 
train  leaves  in  five  minutes." 

"Never  mind  the  charge,"  broke  in  a  new 
voice.  "I  know  this  duck  and  I'll  look  after 
him.  On  your  feet,  Clancey!" 

A  clean-shaven,  lean-jawed  man  had  pushed 
his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  now  he  gripped 
the  thief's  coat  lapels  and  fairly  lifted  him  to 
his  feet. 

"Detective,"  whispered  a  man  behind  Martin. 

"This  guy's  wanted,"  continued  the  newcomer. 
"Stand  up,  you're  all  right,  'Spike.'  Put  up 
your  hands."  The  captive,  finding  that  playing 
possum  would  not  do,  obeyed  meekly  and  the  de- 
tective ran  quick  and  practised  fingers  over  him. 
Then  a  pair  of  handcuffs  were  slipped  onto  the 
man's  wrists  and  he  was  being  whisked  through 
the  throng. 

"Here's  your  pocketbook,  young  man,"  said 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  21 

the  policeman  importantly.  ''You'd  not  have  it 
saving  this  feller  here."  He  indicated  the  boy 
whose  football  tactics  had  ended  the  chase  and 
who,  hemmed  in  by  the  crowd,  was  now  striving 
to  get  away.  "Better  see  if  the  contents  is 
correct." 

Joe  had  tried  to  express  gratitude  to  the  other 
boy,  examine  his  pocketbook  and  listen  to  the  low- 
voiced  urging  of  Martin  all  at  the  same  time,  with 
the  result  that  he  was  decidedly  incoherent  and 
confused.  Martin  was  tugging  at  his  arm  and 
telling  him  that  they  had  but  five  minutes  to  get 
the  train.  The  policeman  came  to  his  rescue. 

"Move  on  nowl  Move  on!"  he  commanded 
sternly,  pushing  right  and  left.  "Stop  blocking 
up  this  passage!" 

The  throng  dissolved  almost  as  quickly  as  it 
had  formed.  Somehow,  Joe  and  Martin,  hurrying 
back  to  where  Bob  had  returned  to  guard  the  suit- 
cases, found  themselves  close  to  the  boy  who  had 
made  the  capture.  He  had  rescued  his  luggage, 
a  large  kit-bag,  from  a  bystander  and,  too,  was 
seeking  the  ticket  window. 

"I'm  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Joe.  "I  guess 
he'd  have  got  away  if  you  hadn't  stopped  him." 

The  stranger  nodded.  "Yes,  he  was  in  quite 
a  hurry.  I'd  just  come  in  when  I  saw  him  swing 


6  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

around  the  corner  and  knew  that  something 
was  up.  I  wasn't  sure  he  was  the  man  they 
were  after,  but  I  thought  I'd  better  take  a 
chance. ' ' 

"I'm  certainly  glad  you  did,"  replied  Joe  em- 
phatically. "It  was  mighty  nice  of  you." 

"Not  at  all."  The  boy  smiled  and  stepped  into 
line  at  a  window.  Joe  followed  while  Martin  and 
Bob,  bags  in  hand,  stood  ready  to  run  for  the 
gate.  A  moment  later  the  stranger  turned  and 
found  Joe  behind  him. 

"I  can  get  a  ticket  for  Lakeville  here,  can't  I?" 
he  asked. 

"Yes.    Are  you  a  Kenly  fellow?" 

"Not  yet.  I'm  just  entering.  Are  you  going 
there?" 

"No,  I'm  Alton."  The  other  looked  slightly 
puzzled  and  so  Joe  explained.  "Alton  Academy, 
you  know.  That's  twelve  miles  this  side  of  Lake- 
ville. We  play  you  fellows  at  football  and  base- 
ball and  so  on." 

"Oh,  I  see.  Maybe  I'll  see  you  again  some  time 
then." 

The  purchaser  in  front  hurried  away  and  he 
turned  from  Joe  to  the  ticket  seller.  A  minute 
or  so  later,  when  the  three  were  walking  along 
the  platform,  they  again  overtook  the  stranger^ 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  9 

and  Joe  said  smilingly:  "If  you're  looking  for  a 
parlor  car,  there  isn't  one." 

"Thanks,  I  thought  maybe  it  was  up  ahead." 

"Not  on  this  train.  Better  come  and  sit  with 
us  and  we'll  turn  a  seat  over." 

Fortunately  for  that  project,  the  car  they  en- 
tered was  no  more  than  half  filled,  and  soon,  hav- 
ing stowed  their  suitcases  in  the  rack  overhead, 
they  settled  down,  Bob  and  Martin  taking  the 
front  seat  and  Joe  and  the  stranger  the  other,  the 
latter  placing  his  kit-bag,  which  was  too  large  for 
the  rack,  between  his  feet.  As  soon  as  they  were 
settled  the  train  started. 

"By  the  way,"  said  Joe,  "my  name's  Myers, 
and  this  is  Newhall  and  this  is  Proctor." 

The  other  acknowledged  the  introductions  with 
a  smile.  *  *  Very  glad  to  know  you, ' '  he  said.  ' '  My 
name's  Harmon." 

"Joe  says  you're  going  to  Kenly,"  observed 
Bob,  trying  hard  to  keep  pity  out  of  his 
voice. 

"Yes,  I'm  just  entering."  There  was  an  em- 
barrassed silence  after  that  while  the  train  rum- 
bled its  way  through  the  tunnel.  Then: 

"Well,  everyone  to  his  taste,"  murmured  Mar- 
tin. Joe  frowned  rebukingly  and  Martin  grinned 
back. 


10  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Guess  you  chaps  don't  think  much  of  Kenly," 
said  Harmon  with  a  laugh. 

"Oh,  don't  pay  any  attention  to  Mart,"  said 
Bob.  "Kenly's  all  right,  I  guess.  She  licked 
us  last  year,  14  to  6.  Beat  us  at  hockey, 
too." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Martin,  though  it  evi- 
dently hurt  him.  "Kenly's  going  to  have  a  good 
team  this  year,  too,  I  hear." 

"Is  she?"  Harmon  didn't  seem  vastly  inter- 
ested. 

"Guess  you  play  football,  don't  you?"  asked 
Bob.  "A  fellow  back  there  said  you  made  a  cork- 
ing tackle  of  that  thief!" 

"I've  played  some." 

Joe  started.  *  *  Did  you  say  your  name  was  Har- 
mon?" he  demanded  almost  brusquely.  The  other 
nodded  inquiringly.  "Did  you  go  to  Schuyler 
High  last  year?"  pursued  Joe.  Harmon  nodded 
again.  Joe  shot  a  meaningful  look  at  Bob  and 
Martin.  Bob  answered  with  a  slow  wink,  but 
Martin  looked  puzzled.  Joe  relapsed  into  thought- 
ful silence,  and  conversation  ceased  for  a  minute 
or  two.  When  the  train  emerged  from  the  tunnel, 
however,  Joe  settled  himself  further  into  his  cor- 
ner, which  enabled  him  to  see  his  seat  companion 
without  turning  his  head  so  far,  and  asked:  "If 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  11 

it  isn't  too  personal,  Harmon,  how  did  you  happen 
to  decide  on  Kenly  Hall?" 

Harmon  looked  the  least  bit  surprised,  but  he 
answered  unhesitatingly.  "My  brother  was  go- 
ing to  Kenly,"  he  explained.  "Then  he  decided 
he'd  quit  school  and  join  the  Navy.  So  I  just 
thought  I  might  as  well  go  where  he'd  started  for. 
Guess  that  was  the  way  it  happened.  I  don't 
really  know  much  about  the  place.  Dare  say,  if 
I'd  heard  of  your  school  first  I'd  have  gone 
there." 

"Gee,  I  wish  you  had!"  said  Joe  in  heartfelt 
tones. 

Harmon  viewed  him  bewilderedly.  Then  he 
laughed  with  a  suggestion  of  embarrassment. 
"Thanks,"  he  murmured.  "Guess  your  school 
isn't  missing  much,  though."  He  turned  his  gaze 
and  busied  himself  with  getting  his  ticket  ready 
for  the  conductor.  Bob,  opposite,  viewed  him  with 
flattering  attention.  He  saw  a  boy  of  apparently 
seventeen  years,  well  if  not  heavily  built,  with 
clean-cut  features,  quiet  gray-blue  eyes  and  brown 
hair.  He  was  not  particularly  good-looking,  but 
his  somewhat  serious  and  self-confident  expres- 
sion would  have  brought  a  second  glance  from 
anyone.  Then,  too,  when  he  smiled  he  looked  very 
likable.  Bob's  thought  was,  as  he  turned  his 


12  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

gaze  away:  "Thinks  well  of  himself,  but  doesn't 
put  on  any  airs.  Doesn't  do  much  talking,  but 
thinks  a  lot.  Looks  like  he'd  be  mighty  shifty  on 
his  feet  and  pretty  hard  to  stop  if  he  once  got 
started." 

When  the  conductor  had  taken  their  tickets  and 
gone  on,  Bob  said:  "I  suppose  you'll  be  going  out 
for  the  Kenly  team,  Harmon." 

"I  think  I'll  have  to  try  for  it,  but  I  guess  I 
won't  stand  much  of  a  show."  Harmon  smiled 
deprecatingly. 

Bob  frowned  slightly.  It  was  all  right,  he  re- 
flected, to  be  modest,  but  there  was  no  sense  in 
being  a  humbug !  Joe  laughed.  ' '  Oh,  I  dare  say 
you'll  get  by,"  he  said,  faintly  ironic.  After  a 
moment  he  added  lightly :  * '  If  they  turn  you  down, 
come  over  to  us.  I'll  promise  you  a  place!" 

Harmon  smiled  politely,  and  Bob  leaned  across 
to  him.  "Better  take  him  up,  Harmon,"  he  said. 
"Joe's  our  captain,  you  know." 

Harmon  looked  with  slightly  more  interest  at 
Joe.  "Really?"  he  asked.  "I'll  have  to  remem- 
ber your  offer  then."  But  the  joking  tone  in 
his  voice  indicated  that  he  wasn't  taking  the  sug- 
gestion very  seriously.  While  his  head  was 
turned,  Bob  surreptitiously  reversed  the  leather 
tag  that  hung  from  the  handle  of  the  kit-bag  at 


13 

his  feet.    Behind  the  little  celluloid  window  the 
named  stared  out  distinctly: 

Gordon  Edward  Harmon. 

1  'Yes,  we're  both  guards,"  Joe  was  saying  when 
Bob  sank  back  in  his  seat  again.  "In  fact,  all 
three  of  us  are,  for  that's  Proctor's  position,  too." 

"Oh,  I'm  only  a  sub,"  disclaimed  Martin,  "one 
of  the  'also-rans.'  " 

"  'The  Three  Guardsmen,'  >J  laughed  Harmon. 
"I  guess  I  read  about  you  fellows  once." 

"Wasn't  there  a  fourth  one?"  asked  Bob.  "I 
never  could  see  why  that  fellow  Dumas  called  the 
story  'The  Three  Guardsmen.'  " 

"That's  right,"  said  Martin.  "D'Artagnan 
made  the  fourth." 

"Maybe  D'Artagnan  was  a  back,"  suggested 
Joe,  chuckling. 

"Guess  he  was  quarter-back,"  said  Martin, 
"for  he  usually  ran  the  game!" 

Bob  shifted  his  feet  and  stretched.  "Guess  I'll 
walk  through  and  see  if  any  of  the  fellows  are 
aboard,"  he  said.  "Want  to  come  along,  Joe!" 

"Sure."  Joe  arose  with  alacrity  and  joined 
Bob  in  the  aisle,  and  they  made  their  way  for- 
ward. Martin,  left  alone  with  the  new  acquain- 
tance, gazed  wistfully  after  his  friends  and  then, 
with  a  sigh,  put  his  feet  where  Bob  had  sat  and 


14  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

prepared  to  make  polite  conversation.  Martin 
Proctor  was  seventeen,  rather  thick-set  and  had  a 
round  face  from  which  a  pair  of  brown  eyes 
viewed  the  world  with  quizzical  good  humor.  Just 
now  the  good  humor  was  slightly  obscured,  for 
he  wasn't  keen  on  entertaining  this  strange  youth 
who  preferred  Kenly  Hall  to  Alton  Academy. 
However,  conversation  progressed  well  enough, 
once  started,  and  presently  Martin  forgot  his 
hostility. 

Meanwhile  Joe  and  Bob  had  come  to  anchor  in 
a  seat  in  the  smoking  car  ahead.  ''It's  he,  all 
right,"  announced  Bob  triumphantly. 

Joe  nodded.    "Yes,  I  guess  it  is." 

"I  don't  guess;  I  know!  Wasn't  Harmon's 
name  Gordon  Harmon  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

"Well,  that's  the  name  on  his  bag.  I  looked 
when  he  was  talking  to  you.  Gordon  Edward  Har- 
mon's his  name!" 

Joe  shrugged.  "I  wonder  how  they  got  him, 
Bob,"  he  said. 

"You  heard  his  yarn,  didn't  you?"  replied  Bob, 
chuckling. 

"Yes,  and  I  believed  it — not!  I'd  just  like  to 
know  how  Kenly  gets  all  the  good  players  every 
year.  They  pretend  they  don't  go  after  them,  but 


THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN  15 

it's  mighty  funny !  There 's  a  heap  more  than  luck 
in  it!  Here  we  are  needing  a  good  full-back  like 
Harmon  the  worst  way,  and  he  has  to  select  Kenly. 
It  makes  you  sick!" 

" Reckon  he's  as  good  as  the  papers  made  him 
out?" 

"Of  course  he  is!  Great  Scott,  you  can't  get 
away  from  his  record,  Bob !  Why,  last  year  every 
one  of  the  New  York  papers  that  I  saw  made  him 
first-choice  full-back  on  the  All-Scholastic  Team. 
The  man  was  a  wonder,  considering  his  age. 
Funny  thing  is  that  he  doesn't  look  it.  I  mean  he 
doesn't  look  as  heavy  as  they  said  he  was.  He 
does  look  pretty  good,  though." 

"Y-yes,  but  I'd  never  take  him  for  a  plunger. 
.Doesn't  seem  to  be  the  right  build.  Looks  more 
like  a  fellow  who'd  be  fast  and  shifty  outside 
tackles." 

"Yes,"  Joe  agreed,  "but  you  can't  always  tell 
by  appearances.  Anyway,  I  wish  to  goodness  we 
were  getting  him  instead  of  Kenly!" 

Bob  nodded  and  there  ensued  a  long  silence  dur- 
ing which  Joe  looked  frowningly  from  the  window 
and  Bob  gazed  fixedly  at  his  hands.  It  was  Bob 
who  spoke  first.  "Say,  Joe,"  he  asked  slowly, 
"you  don't  suppose  we  could  persuade  him  to 
come  to  Alton  instead,  do  you?" 


16  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Joe  sniffed.  "He  looks  like  a  fellow  you  could 
persuade,  doesn't  he?"  he  asked  sarcastically. 
" Besides,  what  are  you  going  to  offer  him!  And 
if  we  did  make  him  an  offer  we'd  get  in  wrong 
with  faculty.  The  Athletic  Committee  wouldn't 
back  us  up,  either." 

"Reckon  Kenly's  making  it  easy  for  him?" 
asked  Bob  doubtfully. 

"I  don't  know.  Looks  like  it,  doesn't  it?  I 
know  they  pretend  to  have  clean  hands  and  all 
that,  and  they  surely  do  enough  blowing,  but  it's 
mighty  funny  they're  always  getting  star  players 
from  the  high  schools  and  smaller  prep  schools. 
Look  at  last  year.  If  they  hadn't  had  Greene  and 
Powers  they'd  never  have  licked  us;  and  Greene 
had  just  entered  from  that  school  up  in  Rhode 
Island  and  Powers  was  fresh  from  Stamford 
High.  Oh,  well,  there's  no  use  grouching.  Let's 
go  back." 

"Wait  a  moment."  Bob  still  stared  at  his 
hands  and  spoke  thoughtfully.  '  *  Seems  to  me  this 
chap's  too  good  to  lose,  Joe,  without  making  an 
effort." 

"Sure  he  is,"  growled  the  captain.  "What's 
on  your  mind?" 

Bob  looked  around  guardedly.  "I'll  tell  you," 
he  said. 


CHAPTER  n 

KIDNAPPED ! 

"WELL,  our  station's  next,"  said  Bob  some  forty 
minutes  later.  "Better  change  your  mind,  Har- 
mon, and  get  off  with  us." 

Harmon  answered  his  laugh  and  shook  his  head. 
"I'd  like  to,  but  I'm  booked  up  the  line.  Is  Lake- 
ville  the  next  stop?" 

"Second  after  Alton,"  answered  Joe  as  he 
lifted  the  suitcases  from  the  rack  and  handed  them 
to  Bob.  "Look  us  up  when  you  come  over  with 
the  team  some  time.  You'll  find  Newhall  and  me 
in  Lykes  and  Proctor  in  Haylow."  There  was  a 
warning  blast  from  the  locomotive  and  the  train 
came  slowly  to  a  stop.  The  three  Altonians  shook 
hands  with  Harmon,  taking,  as  it  seemed,  much 
time  in  the  ceremony.  Outside,  on  the  station 
platform,  a  score  or  more  of  boys  were  hurrying 
toward  the  carriage  stand.  Bob  had  encumbered 
himself  with  Joe's  bag  and  his  own  and  it  was  he 
who  led  the  way  to  the  door  at  last,  Martin  fol- 
lowing with  his  suitcase  and  Joe  still  making  his 
farewell  to  Harmon.  Then  the  cry  of  "All 

17. 


18  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

aboard!"  came  and  Joe  gave  Harmon's  hand  a 
final  clasp,  picked  up  the  kit-bag  and  fled  down  the 
aisle. 

For  a  brief  instant  Harmon  thought  his  sight 
had  tricked  him,  but  a  swift  glance  showed  that 
his  bag  was  missing  and  in  another  instant  he  was 
on  his  feet  and  calling  to  Joe.  "Hold  on  there! 
that's  my  bag  you've  got!"  he  shouted.  But  Joe 
evidently  didn't  hear,  for  he  was  through  the  door 
and  down  the  steps  before  Harmon  started  after 
him.  When  Harmon  reached  the  car  platform  Joe 
and  his  two  companions  were  fifty  feet  distant, 
seeking  a  conveyance.  The  train  was  still  mo- 
tionless, although,  further  back,  a  trainman  was 
holding  his  hand  aloft.  There  was  but  one  thing 
to  do  and  Harmon  did  it.  In  an  instant  he  was 
pushing  his  way  through  the  luggage-laden  throng 
about  the  carriages. 

"You've  got  my  bag,  Myers,"  he  announced 
breathlessly  as  he  laid  hands  on  it. 

Joe  looked  around  in  surprise,  still  holding  tight 
to  the  bag.  "What  did  you  say?"  he  asked 
blankly. 

Harmon  tugged  desperately.  "My  bag!  Let 
go,  will  you?  I'll  lose  my  train!" 

Joe  looked  at  the  bag.  "Well,  what  do  you 
know?"  he  gasped.  "By  Jove,  I  am  sorry,  Har- 


KIDNAPPED !  19 

mon !  I  thought  it  was  mine !  Who's  got  my  bag? 
Here!"  He  thrust  the  bag  at  Harmon  so  ener- 
getically that  the  latter  failed  to  grasp  it.  ''Bet- 
ter hurry,  old  man!  Your  train's  going!" 

"Thanks!"  Harmon  turned  and  started  back. 
He  would  doubtlessly  have  swung  himself  to  the 
platform  of  the  rear  car  had  it  not  been  for  Bob's 
awkwardness.  Bob  was  terribly  sorry  and  apolo- 
getic about  it  afterwards!  Just  as  Harmon  was 
free  of  the  group,  a  clear  path  across  the  station 
platform  before  him,  Bob  stepped  directly  in  front 
of  him !  Of  course  you  know  what  happened  then. 
Harmon  dodged  to  the  right  and  at  the  same  in- 
stant Bob  stepped  to  the  left,  which  didn't  better 
the  situation  the  least  bit.  Bob  looked  most  em- 
barrassed, and  you  could  see  that  he  felt  just  like 
kicking  himself.  In  fact,  he  assured  them  all 
afterwards  that  he  felt  that  way.  But  meanwhile 
he  made  the  mistake  of  stepping  back  to  the  right 
just  as  Harmon  made  a  final  despairing  effort  to 
get  past  him  on  that  side,  and  again  they  collided! 

Harmon  set  his  bag  down  then,  smiled  rather 
a  sickly  smile  and  watched  the  train  become 
smaller  and  smaller  in  the  distance.  Bob  fairly 
revelled  in  self-reproach  and  abjected  himself  to 
such  an  extent  that  a  heart  of  stone  would  have 
been  moved  to  forgiveness.  And  as  Harmon's 


20  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

heart  wasn't  made  of  any  such  material  he  gave 
his  attention  to  assuring  Bob  that  it  didn't  really 
matter.  Joe  and  Martin  were  most  regretful,  and 
Joe  tried  to  take  all  the  blame.  But  Bob  wouldn't 
allow  that. 

"No,  if  I  hadn't  got  in  the  way,  like  a  blamed 
idiot,  he'd  have  got  it  all  right,"  he  insisted. 
"You  see,  I  thought  he  was  coming  over  here  and 
so  I  stepped  over  there — like  this — and  he  came 
the  other  way  and  I  tried  to  side-step  him  and — " 

"It  doesn't  matter  a  bit,"  Harmon  assured 
them,  smiling  quite  cheerfully  now.  "There'll  be 
another  train  pretty  soon." 

"That's  so!"  Evidently  the  idea  hadn't  oc- 
curred to  Bob  before  and  he  welcomed  it  with 
enthusiasm.  "Sure,  there's  a  train  about  six 
o'clock,  fellows!" 

"Well,  that's  nearly  two  hours,"  said  Joe. 
"Let's  put  our  bags  inside  and  find  some  seats. 
No  use  standing  up  all  that  time." 

"Oh,  but  you  chaps  needn't  wait  around,"  de- 
clared Harmon.  "I  wouldn't  think  of  having  you 
"do  that!" 

The  three  looked  at  each  other  inquiringly. 
Then:  "Can't  let  you  wait  around  here  all  alone," 
said  Joe  decidedly;  "not  after  making  you  lose 
your  train  like  that.  Bob,  you  and  Martin  go  on 


KIDNAPPED!  21 

up  and  take  my  bag  with  you,  and  I  '11  stay  here. ' ' 

''Why  not  all  go  up?"  asked  Martin.  "Har- 
mon's got  nearly  two  hours  to  wait.  He  might 
as  well  come  along  and  be  comfortable." 

"That's  the  ticket!"  exclaimed  Bob.  "Leave 
your  bag  here  and  ride  up  to  school  with  us,  Har- 
mon. We  '11  show  you  around  a  bit  and  then  we  '11 
go  up  to  my  room  or  Joe 's  and  rest  until  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  your  train  goes.  And 
I'll  ride  back  with  you!" 

Harmon  hesitated.  "That's  very  nice  of  you," 
he  said  warmly,  "but  I  wouldn't  want  to  miss 
another  one.  Maybe  I'd  better  just  sit  in  the 
station  and — " 

"You'd  die  of  the  heat  down  here  in  this  hole," 
said  Joe.  "Come  on!  We'll  find  out  when  the 
train  is  due,  leave  your  bag  with  the  agent  and 
beat  it." 

Harmon  allowed  himself  to  be  persuaded.  After 
all,  it  was  decidedly  warm  there  at  the  station, 
and  an  hour  and  fifty-one  minutes — which  was 
what  the  agent  made  it — would  be  a  long  time  to 
wait.  And  Joe  insisted  on  waiting  with  him,  too, 
and  that  was  the  strongest  argument  presented, 
for  Joe  and  his  friends  had  treated  him  mighty 
nicely  and  Harmon  felt  that  it  would  be  a  pretty 
low  piece  of  business  to  make  any  of  them  suffer. 


22  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

So  off  they  all  went  presently  in  one  of  the  tumble- 
down, creaky  carriages  that  still  competed  with 
the  few  taxi-cabs  at  Alton,  and  Harmon  proved 
himself  a  thoroughly  good  sport  by  appearing  to 
forget  the  regrettable  incident  and  displaying 
much  interest  in  the  town  and,  finally,  the  school. 

The  others  pointed  out  all  points  of  interest  on 
the  way :  the  Congregational  Church  that  had  the 
tallest  steeple  in  New  England — none  of  them 
could  remember  the  exact  figures,  however — the 
Town  Hall  and  Library,  the  rival  motion  picture 
theaters,  the  Common  with  the  statue  of  Nathan 
Hale  in  the  center — at  least  Bob  and  Martin 
thought  it  was  Nathan  Hale  and  Joe  was  stoutly 
of  the  opinion  that  it  was  Lafayette — the  ornate 
residence  of  Alton's  richest  and  most  influential 
citizen,  a  brownstone  monstrosity  almost  entirely 
surrounded  by  conservatories  from  which  a  very 
few  sun-baked  ferns  and  palms  peered  forth,  and 
so  on  to  the  school  entrance  on  Academy  Street. 

"On  the  left,"  proclaimed  Bob  from  the  front 
seat,  forming  a  megaphone  of  his  hands,  "the 
modest  dwelling  is  the  Principal's  residence.  Be- 
hind it — you  can  see  it  now — is  Haylow  Hall.  Next 
on  the  right  you  see  Lykes,  especially  interesting 
as  the  home  of  Mr.  Robert  Newhall,  one  of  Alton's 
most  prominent  undergraduates.  In  the  center  of 


KIDNAPPED!  23 

the  row  is  Academy  Hall.  Directly  back  of  it,  if 
you  look  quick,  you  will  discern  Lawrence  Hall. 
Lawrence  is  the  most  popular  of  all  the  buildings. 
It  contains  the  dining  hall.  Further  to  the  right 
is  Upton,  and  then  Borden.  Behind  Borden  is 
the  Carey  Gymnasium.  The  building  by  itself  at 
the  further  end  of  the  Green  is  Memorial  Hall. 
We  are  now  entering  the  school  grounds.  Let 
me  draw  your  attention  to  the  German  howitzer 
on  the  left,  and,  on  the  right,  one  of  our  own  25  *s« 
Both  guns  saw  service  in  the  World  War  and  were 
presented  to  the  school — " 

"Oh,  dry  up,  Bob!"  protested  Joe.  "Harmon 
will  think  you're  an  idiot." 

"Reckon  he  thinks  so  already,"  responded  Bob 
sadly,  "after  the  way  I  acted  at  the  station* 
Jimmy,  you  can  dump  us  at  Lykes." 

The  driver  of  the  vehicle  nodded  silently  and 
turned  to  the  left  in  front  of  Academy  Hall,  from 
the  steps  of  which  a  group  of  boys  shouted  greet- 
ings, boisterous  and  even  ribald,  to  the  occupants 
of  the  carriage.  Harmon  found  himself  wishing 
that  he  had  been  included  in  that  jovial  and  noisy 
welcome.  This  was  his  first  sight  of  a  preparatory 
school  and  he  liked  what  he  saw  and  hoped  that 
Kenly  would  prove  as  attractive.  Alton  Academy 
occupied  a  tract  of  ground  on  the  edge  of  the 


24  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

town  apparently  two  blocks  square.  From  the 
wide,  well-shaded  street  the  Green  rose  at  a  gentle 
grade  to  the  row  of  brick  and  limestone  buildings 
that  fronted  it,  a  smooth  expanse  of  fine  turf  in- 
tersected by  gravel  roads  and  paths  and  shaded 
here  and  there  by  giant  elms.  There  was  no  fence 
nor  wall  and  from  a  little  distance  the  Green 
seemed  to  run,  right  and  left,  into  the  flower-filled 
yards  of  the  houses  across  the  side  streets.  There 
was  something  very  dignified,  very  lovely  about 
the  place,  and  the  visitor's  heart  warmed  to  it.  He 
wanted  to  ask  if  Kenly  was  like  this,  but  incipient 
loyalty  to  the  school  of  his  choice  restrained  him. 
Then  the  carriage  pulled  up  at  a  dormitory  build- 
ing and  everyone  piled  out.  There  was  a  squabble 
between  Joe  and  Martin  over  who  was  to  pay, 
Martin  harking  back  to  a  similar  occasion  last 
spring  when  he  had  paid  the  bill  and  Joe's  mem- 
ory failing  him  utterly.  Harmon  made  a  motion 
toward  his  pocket,  but  Bob  edged  him  toward  the 
steps. 

"Leave  it  to  them,"  he  chuckled.  "Mart  al- 
ways pays  in  the  end." 

This  statement  was  speedily  proved  true  and 
Joe  and  Bob  conducted  Harmon  along  the  first 
floor  corridor  to  the  end  of  the  building  and  there 
opened  a  door  and  ushered  him  into  a  cool,  shad- 


KIDNAPPED!  25 

owy  study.  Martin  had  gone  on  to  Haylow  to  dis- 
pose of  his  bag,  but,  before  Harmon  had  got  well 
settled  in  a  comfortable  chair  where  the  faint 
afternoon  breeze  reached  him  from  one  of  the 
windows,  he  was  back. 

They  sat  there  awhile  and  talked.  Once  Joe 
and  Bob  absented  themselves  on  some  casual  ex- 
cuse that  took  them  out  of  the  room,  and  once 
Martin  and  Joe  were  gone  for  several  minutes, 
but  always  one  of  the  number  was  left  to  enter- 
tain the  visitor.  Harmon  liked  the  study  and  the 
small  alcove-bedroom  that  led  from  it  and  was 
much  interested  in  the  pictures  and  trophies  that 
adorned  the  walls  and  the  tops  of  the  chiffoniers. 
Joe  explained  that  his  roommate,  Don  Harris,  had 
not  arrived  and  would  probably  not  get  there  until 
the  next  morning.  Harris  came  from  Ohio  and 
faculty  allowed  those  who  lived  at  a  distance  a 
day's  grace. 

"I  suppose  you  have  to  be  at  Kenly  tonight, 
don't  you,  Harmon?"  he  asked. 

"I  believe  so.  I  understand  that  school  begins 
in  the  morning.  What  time  is  it  getting  to  be? 
I  don't  want  to  miss  that  next  train." 

"Oh,  there's  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  yet," 
said  Bob.  *  *  How  'd  you  like  to  take  a  look  around  I 
It  doesn't  seem  quite  so  warm  now." 


26  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

The  visitor  was  agreeable  to  the  suggestion  and 
the  quartette  set  forth.  They  went  first  to  Law- 
rence Hall  and  saw  the  big  dining-room  that  ac- 
commodated four  hundred.  The  forty-odd  tables 
were  already  draped  in  white  and  set  for  supper, 
and,  with  the  afternoon  sunlight  slanting  through 
the  high  windows,  the  silent  hall  looked  very 
pleasant.  They  climbed  the  stairs  to  the  visitors' 
gallery  and  then  descended  other  stairs  and 
looked  into  the  big  kitchen  through  the  oval  win- 
dows in  the  swinging  doors.  Then  came  the  ath- 
letic field,  where  several  of  the  tennis  courts  were 
already  in  use,  and  Harmon  heard  tales  of  hard- 
fought  battles  on  gridiron  and  diamond  and  track, 
battles  that  were  invariably  won  by  Alton.  He 
wanted  to  ask  if  Kenly  had  never  scored  a  victory 
there,  but  he  refrained. 

They  poked  their  heads  into  Upton  and  Bordec. 
Halls,  the  latter  dormitory  reserved  for  the  fresh- 
man students,  and  then  crossed  to  the  gymnasium. 
Harmon  could  honestly  and  unaffectedly  praise 
that,  for  it  was  just  about  the  last  cry  in  build- 
ings of  its  kind.  He  looked  longingly  at  the  big 
swimming  pool  with  its  clear  green  water  showing 
the  white  tiled  floor  below,  and  Bob  regretted  that 
there  wasn't  time  for  a  swim.  Then  came  Me- 
morial Hall,  where  the  sunlight  shone  through  the 


KIDNAPPED!  27 

many-hued  windows  and  cast  wonderful  designs  of 
red  and  blue  and  gold  and  green  on  the  marble 
tablets  across  the  silent  nave.  The  library  was 
here,  a  book-lined,  galleried  hall  whose  arched 
ceiling  was  upheld  by  dark  oak  beams.  Two  great 
tables,  each  on  a  deep-crimson  rug,  stood  at  either 
end,  and  many  comfortable  chairs  surrounded 
them.  There  was  a  stone  fireplace  with  monstrous 
andirons,  and  the  school  seal  above  it.  Facing  the 
corridor  door,  a  clock,  set  in  the  gallery  railing, 
ticked  loudly  in  the  silence.  Upstairs  was  the 
Auditorium  on  one  side  of  the  corridor,  a  large, 
many-windowed  hall  with  a  platform  at  one  endr 
while,  across  from  it,  were  four  recitation  rooms. 

Outside  again,  they  followed  a  path  that  took 
them  under  the  shade  of  the  elms  back  to  Academy 
Hall.  There  was  not  much  time  left  now,  and 
after  viewing  the  school  offices  from  a  respectful 
distance  and  peering  into  some  of  the  classrooms 
on  the  first  and  second  floors,  Joe  decided  that 
their  guest  had  better  be  thinking  of  getting  back 
to  the  station.  "You  mustn't  go,  though,  without 
seeing  the  view  from  the  cupola,"  he  added. 
"There's  plenty  of  time  for  that." 

Harmon  looked  doubtfully  at  his  watch,  but  Joe 
was  already  leading  the  way  toward  a  narrow 
flight  of  stairs  at  the  end  of  the  second-floor  cor- 


28  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

ridor  and  Bob  had  an  urging  grip  on  his  shoulder. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Martin.  "Everyone 
ought  to  see  the  view  from  the  cupola.  It — it's 
one  of  the  sights!"  Perhaps  he  meant  to 
add  further  persuasion,  but  a  fit  of  coughing  over- 
took him.  Bob,  over  Harmon's  head,  scowled  fe- 
rociously back  at  him. 

The  stairway  ended  at  a  closed  door  and  the 
procession  halted  while  Joe  shot  back  a  heavy 
iron  bolt  and  drew  the  portal  outward.  Then  he 
stepped  politely  aside  and  the  visitor  entered  a 
small  apartment  some  eight  feet  square.  It  was 
quite  bare  and  lighted  by  four  tiny  panes  set  one 
in  each  wall  and  just  under  the  ceiling.  Harmon's 
gaze  went  questing  for  the  stairs  or  ladder  by 
which  he  was  to  reach  the  cupola,  but  there  was 
nothing  of  that  sort  in  sight.  Indeed,  there  was 
no  egress  save  by  the  door  through  which  he  had 
entered!  He  was  on  the  point  of  calling  polite 
attention  to  the  fact  when  a  sound  behind  him 
brought  him  quickly  about.  The  sound  had  been 
made  by  the  door  as  it  closed,  and  while  he  stared, 
open-mouthed,  a  second  sound  reached  him,  and 
this  time  it  was  made  by  the  bolt  sliding  harshly 
into  place ! 


CHAPTER  HI 

HELD   BY   THE   ENEMY 

A  LONG  moment  of  deep  silence  followed. 

Harmon  stared  bewilderedly  at  the  closed  door. 
Of  course,  it  was  some  sort  of  a  silly  joke,  but  it 
seemed  so  peculiarly  at  variance  with  all  that 
had  gone  before  that  he  couldn't  understand. 
Wondering,  he  waited  for  the  door  to  reopen.  In- 
stead, however,  came  the  voice  of  Joe  Myers,  sub- 
dued by  the  intervening  portal  but  recognizable 
and  distinct. 

" Harmon,  can  you  hear  me?" 

"Yes!" 

" That's  good.  Now  listen.  It's  too  late  to 
make  that  train,  old  man,  and  there  isn't  another 
until  about  nine  o'clock.  That  would  get  you  to 
Lakeville  pretty  late  and  faculty  wouldn't  like  it, 
I  guess.  What's  the  use  of  starting  the  term  with 
a  black  eye,  eh?  No  sense  in  getting  in  wrong 
right  at  the  start,  is  there?  It's  a  sort  of  a  han- 
dicap to  a  fellow — " 

"There's  plenty  of  time  to  get  the  train  if  you'll 
open  that  door,"  replied  Harmon  impatiently. 


30  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

\ 
"What's  the  big  idea,  anyway!    If  it's  a  joke  it's 

a  mighty  poor  one,  Myers!" 

"It  isn't  a  joke,"  came  the  answer.  "You  see, 
it's  like  this.  We  hate  to  see  a  nice,  decent  chap 
like  you  spoiling  his  whole — er — his  whole  future 
career  by  making  a  mistake,  Harmon.  And  you 
will  make  a  mistake  if  you  go  to  Kenly.  Why, 
you  say  yourself  that  you're  not  certain  of  mak- 
ing the  team  over  there!  What  sort  of  a  school 
is  it,  I  ask  you,  where  a  fellow  of  your — your  cali- 
ber has  to  get  out  and  dig  for  a  place  on  the 
eleven?  Now,  here  you're  sure  of  it.  All  you'll 
have  to  do  will  be  just  put  your  name  down  at  the 
office.  Of  course  we  don't  know  what  arrange- 
ment Kenly  has  agreed  to  make,  and  maybe  we 
can't  promise  all  they  have.  You  see,  faculty 
here's  sort  of — sort  of  strait-laced.  But  I'll 
promise  you  this  much,  anyhow,  Harmon:  Your 
first  quarter  won't  cost  you  a  cent.  We'll  see  to 
that.  All  you  need  is  to — ' 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  what  you're  talk- 
ing about!"  protested  the  prisoner.  "Open  that 
door  and  let  me  out,  or — or — " 

"Now  don't  get  peevish,  please!"  begged  Joe. 
"Honest,  we're  doing  this  for  your  own  good, 
Harmon.  Just  think  a  minute  and  you'll  see  it. 
We're  offering  you  a  quarter's  tuition  and  the 


HELD  BY  THE  ENEMY  31 

full-back  position  on  the  team.  If  Kenly  can  do 
any  better,  why,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  that  they're 
a  lot  of  low-down  cheats,  after  the  way  they  talk 
over  there!" 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  Kenly  to  play  football!" 
exploded  Harmon.  * '  I  don 't  care  if  I  never  play ! 
I'm  going  to — to  learn!" 

"Sure!  Well,  that's  another  reason  why  you 
ought  to  stay  here.  Everyone  knows  that  Alton's 
a  better  school  for  learning  things  than  Kenly. 
You  don't  have  to  take  my  word  for  that,  either. 
It's  universally  accepted.  Why,  gosh-ding-it, 
we've  got  a  bigger  faculty  and  a  better  one  than 
Kenly  ever  thought  of  having!  And  we've  got 
better  buildings  and  a  better  plant  generally! 
Why,  say,  you  can  learn  more  here  in  a  month 
than  you  could  learn  at  Kenly  in  a  year!" 

"Are  you  fellows  crazy?"  demanded  Harmon. 
"Let  me  out  or  I'll  kick  the  door  down!" 

"You  can't  do  that,"  replied  Joe  equably. 
"It's  two  inches  thick.  And  no  one  will  hear  you, 
no  matter  how  much  row  you  make,  for  there 
won't  be  anyone  on  the  next  floor  until  tomorrow 
morning.  So  you  might  just  as  well  get  rid  of 
that  idea,  old  man.  We  need  you  right  here  at 
Alton,  and  we  mean  to  have  you.  And  you'll  be 
mighty  glad  some  day  that  we  did  this.  Of  course, 


32  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

right  now  you're  feeling  a  bit  peeved  with  us,  but 
you'll  get  over  that  when  you  calm  down  and  think 
things  over.  Maybe  you'd  like  to  consider  awhile. 
There's  no  hurry.  How  about  it?" 

There  was  no  reply  for  a  long  moment.  Then 
Harmon  said  in  quite  a  placid  voice:  "Will  you 
please  tell  me  again  what  you're  getting  at? 
Maybe  I'm  kind  of  dense,  but  it's  all  hodgepodge 
to  me!" 

"Sure!  Here  it  is  in  a  nutshell.  We  need  you 
on  the  team — " 

"What  team?"  asked  Harmon  patiently. 

"Why,  the  football  team,  man!  We  need  you  a 
heap  more  than  Kenly  does,  and  we're  willing  to 
do  anything  in  reason  to  get  you.  Maybe  you 
won't  mind  telling  us  what  Kenly  has  offered 
you." 

"For  what?" 

"Why,  for — well,  for  going  there." 

"Kenly  hasn't  offered  me  anything.  Why 
should  she?  I'm  entering  like  anyone  else." 

There  was  a  silence.  Then  Joe's  voice  came 
again,  somewhat  more  chilly.  "All  right.  It's 
your  affair.  If  you  don't  want  to  tell,  you  needn't, 
but  we  wouldn't  ever  speak  of  it.  I  suppose  you 
mean  that  we  haven't  offered  enough.  Well,  I'll 
have  a  talk  with  some  of  the  fellows  and  see  what 


HELD  BY  THE  ENEMY  33 

they  say.  You  understand,  Harmon,  that  what- 
ever we  do  we  do  without  faculty  getting  wise. 
And,  of  course,  whatever  money  we  managed  to 
raise  would  come  out  of  a  few  pockets,  because 
lots  of  fellows  wouldn't  approve,  and  lots  of  'em 
haven't  got  the  money.  For  that  matter,  I  don't 
altogether  approve  myself!  If  it  was  almost  any- 
one else  I'd  tell  him  to  go  to  thunder!  Still,  if 
Kenly  can  do  this  sort  of  thing  and  get  away 
with  it—" 

"Would  you  very  much  mind  listening  to  me 
a  minute?"  begged  the  boy  on  the  other  side  of 
the  door.  " Kenly  isn't  paying  me  money  for 
going  there.  She  hasn't  offered  to  and  I  wouldn't 
take  it  in  any  case.  Is  that  plain?" 

"Y-yes,"  replied  Joe,  "but—" 

"Then  why  not  stay  here  instead?"  asked  Bob 
eagerly.  "You're  sure  of  making  the  team  and  it 
won't  cost  you  a  cent  for  tuition  the  first  quarter! 
We've  got  everything  Kenly  has  and  a  lot  she 
hasn't.  Besides,  it's  a  heap  nicer  playing  on  a 
winning  team  than  on  a  losing  one,  and  we're 
going  to  lick  Kenly  this  fall  as  sure  as  shooting!" 

"That  train's  gone,  hasn't  it?"  asked  Harmon 
quietly. 

"Just  leaving  the  station,"  answered  Joe  in 
relieved  tones. 


34  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Then  you  might  as  well  let  me  out  of  here." 

"That  means  you've  decided  to  stay?" 

"No,  it  doesn't.  I  haven't  any  idea  of  staying. 
But—" 

"You  think  it  over,"  advised  Joe.  "We'll  be 
back  in  half  an  hour  or  so.  What  have  you  got 
against  Alton,  anyway?" 

"Nothing  against  the  place,"  answered  Har- 
mon, "but  a  lot  against  the  crazy  idiots  in  it! 
Open  the  door  and  stop  acting  the  fool!" 

There  was  a  low-voiced  conference  outside  and 
then  Joe  announced:  "We'll  let  you  think  it  over 
awhile,  old  man.  There's  no  use  getting  mad 
about  it.  We're  doing  this  for  your  sake  as  much 
as  for  our  own,  and  you'd  ought  to  see  that.  That 
offer  still  holds  good,  remember.  Maybe  I'll  be 
able  to  better  it  when  I  come  back.  I'll  see — " 

"Look  here,  you — you  crazy  loon!  Do  you 
mean  that  you're  going  around  telling  the  fellows 
that  you've  got  me  locked  up  here?" 

"Well,  I've  got  to  tell  them  something,  haven't 
I?  I  can't  say— " 

*  *  Don 't  say  anything !  I  don 't  want  your  money ! 
I  wouldn't  stay  here  if  you  paid  me  a  thousand 
dollars  a  week!" 

"You  mean  that?"  asked  Joe  dubiously. 

"Of  course  I  mean  it !    Now  let  me  out !" 


HELD  BY  THE  ENEMY  35 

( 

"Well,  leaving  money  out  of  it  altogether,  Har- 
mon, and  all  on  the  level :  What 's  the  matter  with 
going  to  school  here  instead  of  over  there?" 

"Why  should  I!"  asked  Harmon  exasperatedly. 
"I  started  for  Kenly  and  that's  where  I'm  going. 
You  can  keep  me  here  all  night  and  all  tomorrow 
and  all—" 

"But  that's  not  reasonable,"  protested  Joe 
mildly.  "Here  we're  giving  you  a  chance  to — " 

"Seasonable!  Ha!  Do  you  call  what  you're 
doing  reasonable?" 

"It  may  not  look  so,  but  it  sure  is!  Hang  it, 
man,  we  're  trying  to  save  you  from  making  a  per- 
fectly rotten  mistake !  Look  here,  have  you  paid 
your  first  quarter  over  there?" 

"I  have  not,  but  that's  got  nothing  to  do 
with  it." 

"Of  course  it  has!"  returned  Joe  in  triumph. 
"You  aren't  a  student  there  until  you've  regis- 
tered and  paid  your  first  quarter  bill !  All  right ! 
Just  pay  your  money  here,  old  man:  the  tuition's 
the  same!  What  do  you  say?" 

"Not" 

"Well,  I've  said  all  I  can  think  of,"  replied  Joe 
despondently.  "You  think  it  over  awhile,  Har- 
mon. There's  no  hurry:  you  can  register  any 
time  this  evening  before  nine  and  tomorrow  morn- 


36  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

ing  before  twelve.  We  '11  be  back  after  a  bit.  Yon 
sort  of  think  it  over,  eh?" 

"I  don't  need  to  think  it  over!  I  haven't  the 
least  idea  of  doing  anything  so  crazy!  Come  on 
and  open  the  door  now,  and  let's  have  an  end  to 
this — this  silly  nonsense!" 

But  there  was  no  reply.  Instead,  there  came  to 
the  captive  the  faint  sounds  of  retreating  foot- 
steps. He  listened  suspiciously.  Perhaps  it  was 
only  a  hoax,  perhaps  Myers  was  still  outside. 
After  a  minute  he  called. 

"That  doesn'i;  fool  me!"  he  said.  "I  know 
you're  still  there!" 

But  there  was  no  answer,  and  when  another 
minute  had  gone  by  he  realized  that  they  had 
actually  gone  and  left  him  there  alone! 


CHAPTER  IV 

HAEMON    COMES   TO   TERMS 

THE  prisoner  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
made  a  frowning  survey  of  his  cell.  From  the 
point  of  view  of  his  captors  it  appeared  an  ideal 
apartment.  There  was  but  one  door  and  that  was 
firmly  locked  and  plainly  invulnerable.  The  win- 
dows were  beyond  reach  and,  in  any  case,  too 
small  to  crawl  through,  and  what  had  once  been 
an  opening  admitting  to  the  belfry  above  had  been 
long  since  boarded  up.  He  kicked  tentatively  at 
the  door  and  might  just  as  well  have  kicked  at 
any  other  place  in  the  four  surrounding  walls  so 
far  as  results  were  concerned.  There  was  no  fur- 
niture, not  even  a  chair.  Listening,  he  heard 
nothing  save,  once,  the  distant  shriek  of  a  lo- 
comotive. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  hopeless  inspection  of 
the  place,  Harmon  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
seated  himself  on  the  floor  with  his  back  to  the 
wall  and  acted  on  Joe  Myers'  advice  to  think  it 
over.  But  thinking  it  over  didn't  enlighten  him 
much.  That  his  captors  really  meant  business  was 

37 


38  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

evident,  but  why  they  had  gone  to  so  much  trouble 
was  a  mystery.  None  of  the  reasons  they  had 
given  seemed  sufficient.  That  they  had  pro- 
ceeded to  such  lengths  merely  to  save  him  from 
the  direful  fate  of  becoming  a  Kenly  fellow  was 
too  improbable.  That  they  seriously  wanted  his 
services  on  the  football  team  was  just  as  unlikely : 
or,  at  least,  it  was  unlikely  that  they  would  value 
those  services  highly  enough  to  indulge  in  kid- 
napping as  a  means  of  securing  them !  No,  there 
was  something  else,  something  that  didn't  appear. 
Perhaps  Kenly  had  once  enticed  an  Alton  boy 
away  and  Alton  was  trying  to  get  even.  Or 
perhaps — 

There  was  a  sound  beyond  the  door  and  Har- 
mon stopped  conjecturing  and  listened.  A  voice 
came  to  him  that  was  not  Joe  Myers*. 

"I  say,  Harmon!" 

"Hello!"  The  prisoner  tried  to  keep  his  tone 
hostile,  but  he  wasn't  altogether  successful,  for  he 
was  becoming  tired  of  isolation  and  silence. 

"Joe  sent  me  up  to  read  something  out  of  the 
school  catalogue  to  you.  Can  you  hear  all  right?" 

"Yes,  go  ahead  and  read,"  answered  Harmon 
scornfully. 

And  Martin  Proctor,  sitting  on  the  top  step  out- 
side, read.  He  read  at  some  length,  too.  He 


HAEMON  COMES  TO  TERMS          39 

started  in  with  a  list  of  Alton  Academy  graduates 
who  had  attained  national  prominence.  The  list 
included  a  Secretary  of  State,  two  Chief  Justices, 
three  United  States  Senators,  numerous  congress- 
men and  a  wealth  of  smaller  fry.  When  he  had 
finished  Harmon  inquired:  "No  Presidents  or 
Vice-Presidents?" 

"I  haven't  graduated  yet,"  replied  Martin 
cheerfully.  "Now  I'll  read  you  something  from 
the  report  of  the  Board  of  Overseers." 

"What  for?  What  do  I  care  about  the  Board 
of  Overseers?" 

"Joe  told  me  to." 

When  that  was  done  Martin  paused  for  com- 
ment, got  none  and  began  a  flattering  description 
of  the  Carey  Gymnasium.  Inside,  Harmon  leaned 
against  the  wall  and  grinned.  A  brief  summary 
of  scholarships  and  a  statement  to  the  effect  that 
the  Academy  roster  of  year  before  last  repre- 
sented thirty-nine  states  of  the  Union,  two  terri- 
tories and  three  foreign  countries  completed  the 
programme. 

"Joe  said  I  was  to  ask  you  if  you'd  made  up 
your  mind,"  announced  Martin  then. 

"You  tell  him  to  give  you  an  evening  paper  to 
read  the  next  time,"  replied  Harmon. 

"Say,  why  don't  you?"  asked  Martin  persua- 


40  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

sively.  "Honest,  Harmon,  you'll  like  Alton  a 
heap  better  than  Kenly." 

"You  go  back  and  ask  Myers  what  he's  going 
to  say  to  the  faculty  when  I  get  out  of  here  and 
tell  my  story!" 

"Oh,  we've  got  that  fixed  all  right,"  chuckled 
Martin.  "Well,  I've  got  to  be  getting  down  to 
supper." 

' '  Hold  on  there !    When  do  I  eat  ? " 

"I  don't  know.  You  see,  if  we  opened  the  door 
to  give  you  anything  you  might  try  to  get  out ! ' ' 

"You  think  so,  do  you?"  asked  Harmon  grimly. 
"Well,  you've  got  more  sense  than  I  thought  you 
had!  How  long  does  supper  run?" 

"Until  seven.    It's  ten  minutes  past  six  now." 

"Listen,  Porter — " 

"Proctor's  my  name,  old  chap." 

"Proctor,  then.  Look  here,  now.  If  you'll 
open  that  door  and  let  me  out  I'll  keep  quiet  about 
this.  You  can  tell  the  others  that — that  I  asked 
to  see  that  catalogue  and  that  you  went  to  hand  it 
in  and  I  knocked  you  down." 

"Yes,  and  they'd  believe  it,  wouldn't  they?" 
asked  Martin  scornfully.  "Think  of  something 
better,  please!  Besides,  I'm  just  as  much  inter- 
ested in  saving  you  from  your  career  of  crime  as 
they  are,  Harmon.  Why,  I'd  never  forgive  my- 


HARMON  COMES  TO  TERMS    41 

self  if  I  left  one  turn  unstoned !  We  're  trying  to 
save  you  from  yourself,  old  chap!" 

" You'd  much  better  be  thinking  about  saving 
yourselves,"  answered  Harmon,  laughing. 

"Did  you  laugh  then?"  called  Martin  eagerly. 

"Sure.  It  struck  me  as  funny.  You'll  see  the 
•joke  later." 

"I'll  send  Joe  up.  He  said  if  you  sounded  like 
you  were  in  a  good  temper — " 

The  lessening  sounds  of  footsteps  hurrying 
down  the  stairs  finished  the  sentence  and  Harmon 
chuckled.  After  all,  it  was  funny,  the  whole  thing  \ 
and  he  might  as  well  laugh  as  frown.  "When  it 
came  right  down  to  brass  tacks  there  was  no  very 
good  reason  why  he  shouldn't  change  his  alle- 
giance to  Alton  Academy.  At  the  present  moment 
it  meant  just  as  much  to  him  as  Kenly  did :  more 
in  fact,  for  he  had  seen  Alton  and  hadn't  seen 
Kenly.  And  he  liked  what  he  had  seen.  It  might 
very  well  be  that  Kenly  wasn't  nearly  so  good  a 
school,  even  discounting  the  biased  boastings  of 
his  captors.  Of  course  his  parents  expected  him 
to  go  to  Kenly,  and  so  did  his  brother,  but  the 
choice  had  been  his  and  he  saw  no  reason  why  he 
hadn't  a  perfectly  good  right  to  choose  over.  It 
wasn't  too  late,  for  he  had  not  registered  at  Kenly 
and  the  first  quarter's  tuition  was  still  in  his 


42  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

pocket.  Possibly  his  brother  would  be  slightly; 
peeved — 

He  paused  just  there  in  his  cogitating  and  com- 
prehension slowly  illumined  his  face.  He  jumped 
to  his  feet,  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and 
grinned  broadly  at  space.  " That's  it!"  he  mur- 
mured blissfully.  ''I'll  bet  that's  it!"  He  with- 
drew his  hands,  snapped  his  fingers  and  turned 
on  a  heel.  After  that  he  gave  way  to  a  spasm  of 
laughter  that  left  him,  with  streaming  eyes,  cling- 
ing weakly  to  the  door  frame.  "Oh,  gosh!"  he 
gurgled.  "It's  too  good!  Wait — wait  till  they 
find  out — about  it!"  That  thought  sent  him  off 
again  and  he  finally  subsided  on  the  floor,  his 
laughter  dying  away  in  chuckles  and  his  eyes 
fairly  streaming. 

Kecovering  from  his  levity,  he  reviewed  the 
events  of  the  afternoon  from  the  time  of  his  first 
meeting  with  the  "Three  Guardsmen."  He  re- 
called Joe  Myers'  surprising  interest  in  his  name 
and  the  fact  that  he  had  attended  Schuyler  High 
School,  and  how  insistently  the  subject  of  football 
had  held  the  conversation.  Everything  coincided 
with  his  theory.  He  understood  now  why  the 
three  boys  had  connived  at  getting  off  the  train, 
and  keeping  him  off,  why  they  had  gone  to  so  much 
trouble  to  show  him  about  the  school  and,  finally, 


HARMON  COMES  TO  TERMS    £3 

why  they  had  made  him  a  prisoner.  And  he 
understood  why  he  had  been  offered  a  quarter's 
tuition  and  a  place  on  the  team!  It  was  all  very 
simple — and  excruciatingly  funny!  And  he  was 
about  to  give  way  to  laughter  again  when  foot- 
steps once  more  broke  the  silence.  He  pulled  his 
face  straight  and  waited.  It  was  Joe  this  time. 

* '  Hello,  in  there !    Harmon ! ' ' 

"Yes?" 

"I've  talked  to  four  or  five  of  the  fellows  and 
I  guess  it's  all  right.  We'll  manage  to  dig  up 
enough  so  it  won't  cost  you  anything  for  tuition 
the  first  half  of  the  year.  How  does  that 
sound?" 

"Rotten,  Myers.  I  don't  think  I'd  care  to  go  to 
a  school  where  they  do  that  sort  of  thing." 

"What?  But  you  were  going  to  Kenly!"  sput- 
tered Joe. 

"I  told  you  Kenly  hadn't  offered  me  money." 

"Yes,  but —  Look  here,  Harmon,  is  that 
straight,  man  to  man?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Gosh!"  There  was  a  long  silence  beyond  the 
'door.  Then:  "Well,  I  don't  understand,"  said 
Joe  helplessly.  "How  did  you  happen  to  decide 
on  Kenly?" 

"I  told  you  once." 


44  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Yes,  that's  so,  but  I  thought  you  were  just — 
just  talking.  Well,  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't 
be  willing  to  stay  here  then,  Harmon.  If  you 
aren't  getting  anything  from  them,  what's  the  big 
idea!  You're  sure  of  a  place  on  the  team  here 
and — and  if  you  should  change  your  mind  you 
could  have  a  half-term  free  of  cost.  Mind,  I'd  a 
heap  rather  you  didn't  change  it,  because  I  don't 
like  that  sort  of  thing  any  better  than  you  say 
you  do.  We  never  have  paid  any  fellow  for  play- 
ing on  an  Alton  team  and  I  don't  want  to  begin 
now.  Besides,  if  faculty  ever  found  out  about  it 
— Zowie!" 

"Well,  I  don't  want  any  favors,  thanks.  But 
suppose  I  did  decide  to  stay  here,  Myers — " 

"Sure!    That's  the  talk!" 

"Wait  a  minute!  First  thing  of  all,  do  I  get 
any  supper?" 

"You  bet  you  do!  Five  minutes  after  you  say 
the  word  I'll  have  you  hitched  up  to  a  swell 
meal!" 

"Well,  what  about  a  room?  I'd  want  to  be  de- 
cently fixed  that  way,  you  know.  Entering  late 
like  this  I  suppose  I'd  have  to  take  the  leav- 
ings, eh?" 

"Listen!  We've  got  a  swell  room  waiting  for 
you.  The  fellow  that  was  going  in  with  Mart 


45 

isn't  coming  at  all  and  I've  asked  the  secretary 
to  hold  it  open  until  tomorrow  morning.  It's  a 
corking  room;  nice  big  study  with  three  windows 
and  a  fine  view;  on  the  front  of  Haylow;  big  al- 
cove ;  furniture  nearly  new  and  everything ! ' ' 

"Sounds  pretty  fair,"  commented  Harmon. 
"Maybe  I  wouldn't  like  this  fellow  Proctor, 
though:  or  maybe  he  wouldn't  like  me." 

"Kot!  Everyone  likes  Mart,  and  he's  bound  to 
like  you.  If  he  doesn't  I'll  knock  him  into  the 
middle  of  next  Sunday!  You'll  get  on  together 
great!" 

"We-ell,"  said  Harmon  unenthusiastically, 
"maybe.  And  it's  certain  that  I'm  to  make  the 
team?" 

"You  bet  it  is!"  laughed  Joe.  "Just  as  long 
as  you  can  stand  on  your  feet  and  play  football 
you're  sure  of  a  job!" 

"Suppose  I'm  not  as  good  as  you  seem  to  think 
lam?" 

"I'll  risk  that,"  chuckled  Joe. 

"How  about  the  coach,  though?" 

"Johnny?  Don't  worry  about  him.  He  will  be 
just  as  tickled  as  I  am  to  get  you !  What  do  you 
say,  old  man?  It's  getting  pretty  close  to  seven 
o  'clock. ' ' 

"All  right,  I'll  agree!    Open  the  door!" 


46  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

"No  tricks?  You're  not  meaning  to  get  out  and 
then  say  I  misunderstood  you  or  something!" 

"No  tricks,  Myers,  I  give  you  my  word!" 

The  bolt  shot  back  protestingly,  the  door  swung 
open  and  Joe's  delighted  countenance  was  re- 
vealed. "Gee,  I'm  glad,  Harmon!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Shake!"  Harmon  shook.  He,  too,  was  smiling, 
but  his  smile  was  not  so  guileless. 

"You  win,  Myers,"  he  said.  "Now  lead  me  to; 
that  supper ! ' ' 

"Come  on!  We'll  feed  first  and  then  you  can: 
register.  I  haven't  had  anything  myself  yet." 
They  sped  down  the  stairs  and  across  empty,  twi- 
lighted  corridors  and  finally  to  the  cool  outdoors. 
"I  didn't  tell  any  of  the  fellows  where  you  were," 
Joe  explained  as  he  guided  Harmon  around  the 
building  toward  Lawrence  Hall.  "I  just  said  that 
I  was  in  touch  with  you.  Here  we  are.  It's  sort 
of  late,  but  I  guess  there's  plenty  left.  I'll  take 
you  to  my  table  tonight  and  tomorrow  we'll  see 
if  there's  a  place  there  you  can  have  regularly." 

Both  boys  were  much  too  hungry  to  waste 
breath  on  conversation,  and  the  meal  proceeded 
almost  in  silence.  There  was  plenty  to  eat  and 
Harmon  did  full  justice  to  it.  When  they  had 
finished  Joe  took  him  in  tow  again  and  they  went 
back  to  Academy  Hall  and  turned  to  the  left  PU 


HAEMON  COMES  TO  TERMS     47 

the  first  floor  and  passed  through  a  door  whose 
ground-glass  pane  bore  the  inscription:  ''Office — 
[Walk  In."  What  happened  was  very  simple.  At 
a  desk  Harmon  was  introduced  to  a  tall,  lean  gen- 
tleman whose  name  was  Mr.  Wharton.  The  sec- 
retary shook  hands  politely  and  scrutinized  the 
applicant  through  a  pair  of  strong  glasses.  Then 
he  gave  him  a  card  and  a  pen  and  Harmon  wrote 
on  the  dotted  lines,  going  to  some  pains  to  con- 
ceal the  writing  from  Joe.  The  latter,  however, 
had  no  thought  of  looking.  Then  a  sum  of  money 
changed  hands,  the  secretary  filled  out  a  receipt 
for  it,  Harmon  produced  a  certificate  from  the 
principal  of  the  Schuyler  High  School  and  the  in- 
terview ended  with  a  long  sigh  of  relief  from 
3Toe. 

"That's  done,"  he  said  as  they  reached  the  cor- 
ridor again.  "Now  I'll  take  you  up  to  your 
room." 

Haylow  Hall  was  the  last  building  at  the  left 
of  the  Green.  Joe  pushed  his  way  through  a 
group  of  boys  on  the  stone  steps  and  Harmon 
followed,  conscious  that  he  was  being  viewed  with 
a  good  deal  of  interest  by  the  loungers.  Joe,  too, 
noticed  the  fact,  for  he  chuckled,  as  they  started 
up  the  stairs:  "Guess  some  of  those  fellows  rec- 
ognized you,  from  the  way  they  stared!"  There, 


48 

however,  Joe  was  wrong.  The  interest  had  been 
only  such  as  would  have  been  accorded  to  any 
fellow  under  such  circumstances.  For  Joe  was 
unaware  of  the  glow  of  triumph  that  shone  from 
his  countenance  as  he  guided  his  companion  into 
the  dormitory! 

In  Number  16  Martin  Proctor  was  unpacking  a 
trunk  when  Joe  and  Harmon  entered.  Martin 
looked  questioningly  from  the  latter  to  Joe,  a 
doubtful  grin  on  his  face. 

"It's  all  right,"  announced  Joe  gayly.  "He's 
registered,  Mart!  Where's  Bob!" 

"Over  at  the  room,  I  guess.  He  brought  the 
bag  and  lit  out.  Say,  Harmon,  I'm  mighty  glad 
about  this.  And — and  I  hope  you  don't  hold  it 
against  us  for  what  we  did.  It  was  sort  of  rough 
stuff,  but—" 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Harmon  calmly.  "It's 
quite  all  right.  Guess  I  ought  to  feel  flattered 
instead  of  sore,  anyway.  Myers  says  I'm  to  room 
here  with  you." 

"That's  right.  It's  a  pretty  fair  room,  Har- 
mon. Better  than  lots  of  'em,  anyway.  You  might 
take  your  pick  of  the  beds  in  there.  It  doesn't 
matter  to  me  which  I  have." 

"Thanks."  Harmon  gravely  inspected  the  cur- 
tained alcove  and  decided  on  the  left-hand  bed. 


HARMON  COMES  TO  TEEMS    49 

Perhaps  the  fact  that  Martin's  pajamas  lay  there 
had  something  to  do  with  the  decision.  Martin 
blinked  but  stood  the  blow  heroically  and  tried  to 
forget  that  the  right-hand  bed  had  a  weak  spring. 
At  that  moment  Harmon  caught  sight  of  his 
kit-bag  on  the  floor  and  pointed  at  it  in  sur- 
prise. 

1  < Isn't  that  mineT'  he  asked.  "How  did  if 
get  here?" 

"Bob  brought  it  up  from  the  station  a  few  min- 
utes ago,"  explained  Martin. 

"You  fellows  must  have  been  pretty  certain  of 
having  your  way!"  marveled  the  owner  of  the 
bag. 

Joe  nodded  soberly.  "We  had  to  be,"  he  said 
grimly.  "Once  we  had  started,  we  had  to  go 
through  with  it,  Harmon." 

"But  suppose  I  hadn't  given  in!  Suppose  I'd! 
gone  to  the  principal  here  and  told  him  that  you 
fellows  had  kidnapped  me  and  locked  me  up  in  a 
room?" 

Joe  smiled  gently.  "No  chance  of  that,  old 
man.  If  you  hadn't  decided  to  stay  with  us  by 
midnight  we  'd  have  taken  you  back  to  the  station 
and  put  you  on  the  twelve-twenty  train." 

"Hm!  And  I — er — I  wouldn't  have  had  any- 
thing to  say!" 


SO  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"No."  Joe  shook  his  head.  " There 'd  have 
been  three  of  us  anyway;  maybe  four;  and  we'd 
have  fixed  you  so  you  couldn't  talk  much." 

Harmon  smiled.  "Still,  afterwards  I  could 
have  talked.  I  could  have  come  back,  or  written 
a  letter  and  spilled  the  beans." 

"Yes,  you  could  have  done  that,  but  we  argued 
that  once  away  from  here  you'd  get  over  your 
grouch  and  forget  it.  Besides,  a  chap  doesn't 
want  to  look  foolish." 

"That's  so,"  agreed  Harmon,  and  he  repeated 
it  more  emphatically  in  the  next  breath.  "It  is 
uncomfortable,  isn't  it?"  The  arrival  of  Bob 
Newhall  made  a  response  by  Joe  unnecessary,  al- 
though the  latter  wondered  just  a  little  over  Har- 
mon's expression  and  the  inflection  of  his  voice. 
Bob  gave  a  shout  of  triumph  and  joy  when  he  saw 
Harmon. 

"A  brand  from  the  burning!"  he  exclaimed. 
"This  is  great!  I  just  knew  you'd  see  reason, 
Harmon!  Say,  I'm  tickled  to  death!" 

"Well,  don't  upset  the  table,"  warned  Martin. 
"Let's  sit  down,  fellows.  This  has  been  sort  of 
a  strenuous  day.  Try  the  big  chair,  Harmon.  By 
the  way,  as  we  're  going  to  see  a  good  deal  of  each 
Other  we  might  as  well  get  used  to  real  names. 
[Mine's  Martin,  but  I'm  generally  called  Mart." 


HARMON  COMES  TO  TERMS    51 

"But  never  Smart,"  interpolated  Bob. 

Harmon  smiled  at  the  pleasantry.  "And 
I'm  usually  called  Will  and  never  Way,"  he 
said. 

Martin  looked  puzzled.  For  that  matter,  so  did 
the  others. 

"You  mean  folks  call  you  Will?"  asked  Martin, 
doubtfully. 

<  <  Yes.    Short  for  Willard. ' ' 

"Oh!  Willard 's  your  middle  name.  I  see. 
Well—" 

"Hold  on!"  exclaimed  Bob.  "I  thought  your 
middle  name  was  Edward!" 

"No,  my  middle  name  is  Kane.  Willard  is  my 
first  name. ' '  Harmon  explained  politely  and  smil- 
ingly. Joe's  jaw  began  to  drop  slowly. 

"What!"  cried  Bob.  "Aren't  you  Gordon  Har- 
mon, the  fellow  who  played  full-back  last  year  for 
Schuyler  High?" 

Harmon  shook  his  head  gently.  "Oh,  no,  that's 
my  brother,"  he  said. 

A  deep  silence  fell.  Bob  stared  at  Joe  and  Joe 
stared  at  Martin  and  all  three  stared  at  Harmon. 
And  the  latter  met  their  looks  with  an  amused 
smile.  When  the  silence  threatened  to  continue 
forever  Bob  gave  an  audible  gulp  and  blurted 
wildly: 


52  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"But  I  saw  the  name  on  your  bag!  It's  there 
now!  'Gordon  Edward  Harmon!'  " 

"Oh,"  replied  Harmon  gently,  "that  isn't  my 
J>ag.  I  borrowed  it  from  my  brother." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   WRONG   BOY 

ANOTHER  silence  ensued,  broken  at  last  by  a  groan 
from  Bob. 

"Then  you're  not — you  don't — " 

"There's  evidently  been  a  mistake,"  said  Wil- 
lard  regretfully.  "Still,  of  course  it  doesn't 
much  matter  whether  my  name's  Willard  or  Gor- 
don, does  it?  As  Shakespeare  says,  'What's  in  a 
name?'  " 

"I  never  could  stand  that  fellow  Shakespeare,'* 
muttered  Bob.  Joe  was  still  staring  across  the 
table  at  Willard  in  a  strange  fascination.  Mar- 
tin's countenance  was  gradually  assuming  a  broad 
grin.  Willard  went  on  brightly  and  cheerfully. 

"What  I  couldn't  understand  was  why  you 
chaps  were  so  anxious  to  have  me  here.  Just  at 
first,  naturally,  I  was  a  bit  peevish  at  being  locked 
up,  but  when  I  came  to  think  it  over,  like  you  told 
me  to,  I  realized  that  your  wanting  me  to  stay 
was  a  compliment.  It  wasn't  as  if  I  was  of  some 
consequence,  as  if  I  was  a  football  player  or  an 
athlete  or  something  like  that.  You  fellows  just 

53 


54  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

took  a  liking  to  me  and  conldn  't  bear  to  see  me  go 
anywhere  else.  When  I  realized  that  I  didn't  feel 
as  if  I  could  disappoint  you!" 

"Oh,  shut  up,"  pleaded  Joe  miserably. 

Willard  evidently  didn't  hear  him.  "And  then 
promising  me  a  position  on  the  football  team  and 
getting  me  a  nice  room  and  arranging  to  pay  my 
tuition — " 

"No,  by  gosh!"  exploded  Joe.  "You  don't 
come  that,  Harmon !  That's  off!  You  hear  me?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Willard  ag- 
grievedly.  "Didn't  you  say  you'd  fix  it  so  I 
wouldn't  have  to  pay  any  tuition  for  the  first  half 
of  the  year!" 

"No  matter  what  I  said,"  retorted  Joe  wildly. 
"It's  off!" 

"But — but  you  promised  me  a  place  on  the 
team,  Myers!  You  can't  go  back  on  that!" 

"Can't  I?"  asked  Joe  grimly.  "You  told  me 
you  were  Gordon  Harmon — " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  denied  Willard  firmly. 
"I  didn't  toll  you  that.  You — you  must  have  seen 
that  label  on  my  bag!" 

' '  Never  mind !  I  thought  you  were  Gordon  Har- 
mon. We  all  did.  That's  why  we  wanted  you 
here.  That's  why  we  thought  Kenly  had  made 
promises  and  why  we  offered  to  see  you  through 


THE  WRONG  BOY  55 

the  half-year.  Now,  by  gosh,  you  aren't  Harmon 
at  all!" 

"But  it  wasn't  my  fault  you  made  the  mistake! 
And  awhile  back  when  I  said  that  maybe  I  wasn't 
as  much  of  a  football  player  as  you  thought  I  was 
you  said  you'd  risk  it.  Why,  my  main  reason  for 
agreeing  to  stay  here  was  your  promising  me  I 
could  play  football!" 

"That's  right,  Joe,"  said  Martin.  "You  did 
promise  him  that." 

Joe  turned  scowlingly  and  found  Martin's  face 
red  with  repressed  laughter.  "What's  the  mat- 
ter with  you?"  he  growled.  "Hang  it,  it's  no 
laughing  matter!  If  this  chump  thinks  I'm  going 
to  stick  him  on  the  team — " 

"Oh,  take  a  tumble,  Joe!"  gurgled  Martin, 
"Can't  you  see  Harmon's  stringing  you?  Oh, 
gee!"  And  Martin  gave  way  to  uncontrolled 
laughter. 

Joe  looked  at  WillaiO  searchingly,  a  somewhat 
forced  smile  on  his  face.  "That's  right?"  he 
asked  doubtfully. 

Willard  nodded,  his  gray-blue  eyes  twinkling 
merrily. 

"I  hope  you  choke!"  said  Joe.  But  the  wish 
was  followed  by  a  deep  sigh  of  relief. 

"Doesn't  it  seem  fair  enough,"  laughed  Wil- 


56  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

lard,  "for  me  to  have  my  joke  after  youVe  had 
yours?" 

"Sure!"  agreed  Martin.  "He  who  laughs 
last  laughs  best!" 

"What  I  want  to  know,"  declared  Bob  earn- 
estly, "is  where  that  brother  of  yours  is!  Has 
Kenly  got  him?" 

"No,  he's  entered  the  Navy.  I  told  you,  didn't 
I?  He  has  always  wanted  to,  but  dad  wouldn't 
stand  for  it.  And  a  couple  of  months  ago  Gordon 
j'ust  lit  out.  He  meant  to  go  to  Kenly,  if  he  went 
anywhere,  and  that's  why  I  decided  on  Kenly.  I 
thought  one  of  us  might  as  well  go  there!" 

"Well,"  said  Joe,  "I  guess  the  laugh's  on  us, 
all  right!  I — I  suppose  you  mean  to  stay  here?" 

"Surely!  I'm  entered  now,  you  know.  Be- 
sides, I  like  the  place  very  well,  probably  quite  as 
well  as  I'd  have  liked  Kenly.  And  then  being  sure 
of  a  place  on  the  football  team  here — " 

"Have  a  heart!"  gror.aed  Joe.  "Look  here, 
have  you  ever  played  football  at  all?" 

"A  little.  I  got  into  a  couple  of  games  last 
year. ' ' 

"Where  did  you  play?"  asked  Joe. 

"Left  half." 

Joe  shook  his  head.  "No  good,"  he  muttered. 
"We've  got  more  half-backs  than  we  can  use. 


'You  don't  come  that,  Harmon!    That's  off!    You 
hear  me?" 


THE  WRONG  BOY  571 

t 

What  we  need  is  a  corking  good  full-back;  and  a 
couple  of  linemen.  "He  viewed  Willard  despondi 
ently.  "I  thought  you  looked  pretty  light  for  a 
full-back." 

"Me,  too,"  sighed  Bob.  "I  couldn't  quite  pic- 
ture you  smashing  through  a  line  like  Gordon  Har- 
mon did ! ' ' 

"No,  Gordon's  four  inches  bigger  all  around 
than  I  am,  and  he  weighs  nearly  thirty  pounds 
more." 

"Too  bad  for  a  fellow  like  that  to  waste  him-? 
self  in  the  Navy,"  mourned  Joe.  "Look  here, 
Harmon,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I  can't  prom^ 
ise  you  a  place,  old  man :  you  must  see  that  your-? 
self:  but  I'll  see  that  you  get  every  chance  to 
make  good." 

Willard  laughed  softly.  "Well,  I  won't  hold 
you  to  the  agreement,  Myers,  under  the  circum- 
stances. In  fact,  I'd  rather  you  didn't  show  me 
any  favor.  I'll  probably  have  a  stab  at  the  team, 
but  I  shan't  be  heartbroken  if  I  don't  make  it.  In 
any  case,  I'd  rather  stand  on  my  own  feet.  MucH 
obliged,  just  the  same." 

"Well,  that's  decent  of  you,"  muttered  Joe  re-; 
lievedly.  * '  But  of  course  I  want  to  do  anything  I 
can  to  help.  Guess  we  got  you  here  under  false 
pretenses,  sort  of,  and  it's  up  to  us  to — to — ;"  > 


58  LEFT  HALF  HABMON 

"Oh,  no,  yon  didn't,"  Willard  assured  him.  "I 
saw  what  was  up  before  I  consented.  At  first  I 
thought  you  were  all  just  crazy.  Then  I  remem- 
bered how  you  had  asked  my  name  and  if  I'd  come 
from  Schuyler  High  and  understood.  You  chaps 
pulled  a  neat  trick  down  there  at  the  station.  I'll 
say  that.  I  didn't  even  suspect  that  you  meant 
me  to  lose  that  train." 

Joe  nodded  joylessly.  "That  was  Bob's  idea. 
The  poor  simp  saw  the  name  on  your  bag  and  fell 
for  it!" 

"So  did  you  when  I  told  you,"  retorted  Bob 
resentfully.  "Any  fellow  would  have  been 
fooled!" 

"Seems  to  me,"  said  Martin,  "it's  up  to  us  to 
apologize  to  Harmon.  If  anyone  has  a  right  to 
be  peeved  it's  he." 

"Guess  that's  right,  too,"  replied  Joe.  "I'm 
sorry,  Harmon.  Hope  you'll — er — overlook  the 
way  we  treated  you  and — and  everything." 

"Same  here,"  said  Bob.  "Of  course,  we  didn't 
know — " 

"I'll  apologize,  too,  for  my  part  in  the  affair," 
said  Martin,  "but  I'm  not  going  to  pretend  that 
I'm  sorry,  for  I'm  not.  It  was  a  lot  of  fun  while 
it  lasted,  and  even  if  we  didn't  capture  a  football 


THE  WRONG  BOY  59 

star  we  did  Kenly  out  of  a  mighty  decent  sort  of 
a  chap!" 

"Hear!  Hear!"  laughed  Joe.  "Mart's  right. 
Harmon,  we  welcome  you  to  our  midst,  and  we 
trust  that  you  will  never  regret  your  decision  to 
— er — to — " 

"Join  the  gang,"  ended  Martin,  jumping  up. 
"Fellows,  the  occasion  demands  a  celebration!" 
He  went  to  his  partly  unpacked  trunk  and  dug  out 
a  tin  cracker  box  which  he  placed  triumphantly 
on  the  table.  "And  here's  the  wherewithal!"  A 
generous  section  of  a  chocolate  layer-cake  and1 
many  doughnuts  came  to  light  and  were  hailed 
with  acclaim. 

"Wait  a  sec!"  said  Bob.  "We've  got  some 
ginger-ale.  I'll  fetch  it.  Keep  'em  off  the  cake 
till  I  get  back,  Mart!" 

"I'll  do  my  best,"  Martin  assured  him,  "but 
you'd  better  hurry.  I  know  that  gleam  in  Joe's 
eye  of  old!" 

Bob  made  what  was  probably  a  record  trip  to 
Lykes  Hall  and  return,  arriving  anxious  and 
breathless  and  laden  with  four  bottles  of  ginger- 
ale.  Then  Martin  cut  the  cake  in  four  equal 
wedges,  doled  out  the  doughnuts  and  bade  them 
"Go  to  it!"  For  a  minute  or  two  conversation 


6Q  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

was  taboo,  and  then  Bob  held  his  bottle  aloft  and, 
speaking  somewhat  thickly,  offered  a  toast. 

"Gentlemen,  I  give  you  Mr.  Willard  Harmon, 
the  brand  plucked  from  the  burning,  the  lamb 
saved  from  the  slaughter,  the — the — " 

"The  innocent  victim  of  a  deep-dyed  plot!" 
supplied  Martin. 

"The  full-back  who  was  only  a  half!"  cried  Joe. 

"The  gold  brick!"  laughed  Willard. 

"Charge  your  glasses,  gentlemen!  To  the — the 
Brand!"  And  Bob  drank  deeply,  with  mellow 
gurgles. 

"The  Brand!"  chanted  Joe  and  Martin,  and 
followed  the  example. 

Afterwards  they  reviewed  the  afternoon's 
events  in  the  utmost  good  humor  and  with  fre- 
quent laughter.  Martin's  account  of  sitting  on 
the  step  outside  the  door  and  reading  choice  bits 
of  the  school  catalogue  to  the  prisoner  was  espe- 
cially amusing,  and  Willard  revived  the  laughter 
when  he  supplemented  gravely:  "It  was  that  bit 
about  the  open  plumbing  in  the  gymnasium  that 
decided  me!  I  couldn't  resist  that!" 

When,  finally,  Bob  and  Joe  had  taken  them- 
selves off  and  the  roommates  were  preparing  for 
bed,  Martin  said:  "Look  here,  what  about  your 
trunk?" 


THE  WRONG  BOY  61 

i 
Willard  shook  his  head  ruefully.    "It's  at  Lake- 

ville  by  now,  I  suppose,  and  I'm  likely  to  run  short 
of  shirts  before  I  get  it.  I've  got  only  one  in  my 
bag." 

"You  can  wear  mine,  I  guess,"  answered  Mar- 
tin. "Better  telephone  to  the  station  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning  and  get  the  agent  to  have 
them  send  it  back." 

"Maybe  the  quickest  way  would  be  to  go  over 
and  get  it  myself,"  suggested  the  other. 

1 '  No  you  don 't !  You  stay  right  here !  We  went 
to  too  much  trouble  to  get  you  to  let  you  go  over 
there  and  forget  to  come  back!" 

"No  fear,"  laughed  Willard.  "I've  paid  my 
money  here  and  I'll  have  to  stick  now! 
Honest,  Proctor,  is  Alton  a  better  school  than 
Kenly?" 

Martin  paused  in  the  act  of  disrobing  and  looked 
gravely  judicial.  "Well,  we  like  to  say  it  is,"  he 
answered  cautiously. 

"Is  it  bigger?" 

"Not  much.  They  usually  have  a  few  lesa 
students." 

"But  the  faculty  here  is  better?" 

"Hm:  well,  I  wouldn't  go  so  far  as  to  claim! 
that.  Maybe  it  used  to  be,  but  Kenly  enlarged 
hers  a  couple  of  years  ago." 


62  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

I  see.  How  about  athletics :  football  and  base- 
ball and  so  on?  Do  we  usually  beat  Kenly?" 

"Oh,  I  reckon  it's  about  a  stand-off.  One  year 
,we  win  at  football  and  she  wins  at  baseball.  Or 
we  win  at  both  and  she  gets  the  track  champion- 
ship and  the  hockey  series.  Call  it  fifty-fifty." 

"Well,  then,  what  about  the — the  buildings  and 
location  and  all  that?" 

"No  comparison  as  to  location." 

"Oh,  Alton's  got  the  best  of  it  there,  eh?" 

"Alton?"  said  Martin  contemptuously.  "I 
should  say  not!  Why,  this  place  is  stuck  right 
down  in  the  village,  you  might  say.  Kenly 's  got 
about  thirty  acres  of  land  on  the  side  of  a  hill: 
trees  and  brooks  and  fields — why,  say,  she's  got 
four  gridirons  and  four  diamonds  and  a  quarter- 
mile  running  track  and  a  regular  flock  of  tennis 
courts!" 

"Sounds  good,"  commented  Willard.  "What 
about  the  buildings  over  there?" 

"They're  all  right,  too.  Guess  they're  as  good 
as  ours,  anyway.  There  are  more  of  them.  She's 
got  a  corking  gymnasium.  It  would  make  two  of 
ours ! ' ' 

Willard  sighed  discouragedly.  "But  you  fel- 
lows kept  telling  me  how  much  better  Alton  was 
than  Kenly!" 


THE  WRONG  BOY  63 

Martin  grinned  slowly.  "Sure!  Why  not? 
That's  patriotism.  Every  fellow's  got  to  think 
his  school  better  than  the  other  school!" 

"Oh!  Then  Alton  isn't  really  any  better  than 
Kenly?" 

"Of  course  it  is!" 

"In  what  way?"  urged  Willard  hopefully. 

"Well,"  began  the  other  reflectively,  holding 
his  pajama  jacket  together  with  one  hand  and 
rubbing  a  touseled  head  with  the  other.  "Well — " 

"Better  class  of  fellows'?"  suggested  Willard. 

"N-no,  they're  about  the  same.  Some  pretty 
decent  chaps  gc  to  Kenly.  It  isn't  that.  It — it — 
well,  Alton's  just  better,  if  you  see  what  I  mean!" 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't,"  laughed  Willard. 

Martin  grinned.  "You  will  when  you've  been 
here  awhile, ' '  he  said  encouragingly.  * '  The  switch 
is  at  the  left  of  the  door  when  you're  ready." 

"All  right.  I  say,  though,  I've  changed  my, 
mind  about  the  beds.  I'd  rather  have  the  other." 

"Honest?  Well—"  Martin  hesitated.  "You'd 
better  stick  to  the  one  you  picked  out,  old  man. 
That  one 's  got  curvature  of  the  spine.  The  spring 
lets  you  down  in  the  middle." 

"I  don't  mind,"  laughed  Willard.  "I  only 
chose  the  other  because  I  saw  it  was  yours." 

".Oh.  that  was  it!    Well,  say,  if  you  make  a 


M  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

kick  at  the  Office  they'll  put  a  new  spring  on  for 
you.  Logan  was  always  threatening  to  do  it,  but 
he  never  did.  He  was  in  here  with  me  last  year." 

Willard  turned  the  switch  and  felt  his  way  to 
the  bed.  "I  don't  call  this  very  bad,"  he  declared 
when  he  had  experimented.  " Anyway,  it  won't 
keep  me  awake  tonight!" 

"That's  good.  I  hope  it  won't.  Good  night — • 
Brand!" 

"Goodnight,  Marti" 


CHAPTER  VI 

FIRST   DAYS   AT   ALTON 

WILLARD 's  trunk  arrived  two  days  later,  as  though, 
by  its  delay,  protesting  against  the  change  of 
plan,  and  by  that  time  its  owner  was  going  about 
in  one  of  Martin's  shirts.  Those  two  days  wit- 
nessed the  shaking  down  of  Willard  into  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  Alton  Academy.  It  wasn't 
hard,  for  Martin  was  there  to  serve  as  a  very 
willing  counselor  and  guide.  Willard  became  a 
member  of  the  Junior  Class  on  the  strength  of 
his  high  school  certificate,  and,  since  that  was 
also  Martin's  class,  the  latter  was  able  to  render 
assistance  during  the  first  difficult  days.  Fortu- 
nately the  two  boys  took  to  each  other  at  once 
and  life  in  Number  16  Haylow  promised  to  move 
pleasantly. 

The  term  began  on  Thursday,  and  on  Friday  the 
football  candidates  gathered  for  the  first  practice. 
Alton  Academy's  registration  was  well  over  four 
hundred,  as  the  catalogue  later  announced,  and  of 
that  number  nearly  one-fourth  reported  on  the 
gridiron  as  candidates  for  the  school  team. 

H 


66  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

lard,  viewing  the  throng,  thought  little  of  his 
chances  of  securing  a  place. 

Coach  Cade  made  much  the  same  sort  of  a 
speech  as  coaches  generally  make  on  such  occa- 
sions, and  promised  a  successful  season  in  return 
for  cheerful  obedience  and  hard  work ;  and  looked 
unutterably  relieved  when  the  more  or  less  at- 
tentive audience  dispersed.  Mr.  Cade  was  a  short, 
thick-set  man  of  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight 
years,  with  black  hair  that  stood  up  on  his  head 
much  like  the  bristles  of  a  blacking  brush,  a  square 
face  that  looked  at  least  one  size  too  large  for  the 
rest  of  him,  small  features  which  included  two 
very  piercing  dark  eyes,  a  button  nose  and  a  broad 
mouth  and,  to  cap  the  climax,  a  very  gentle  voice. 
Not  a  handsome  chap,  Willard  thought,  but  cer- 
tainly a  very  capable  looking  one.  Later,  he 
learned  from  Martin  that  John  Cade  had  played 
with  Alton  Academy  for  three  years  and  then  for 
as  many  more  on  the  Lafayette  teams,  making  a 
remarkable  reputation,  first  as  a  school  quarter- 
back and  then  as  a  college  guard.  Willard  found 
it  difficult  to  imagine  Coach  Cade  as  a  quarter. 
Probably,  he  concluded,  in  those  days  the  coach 
lacked  the  breadth  and  heaviness  he  showed  now, 
a  conclusion  proved  to  be  correct  when  Willard 
came  across  an  old  photograph  of  an  Alton  eleven 


FIRST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  67 

in  the  gymnasium  some  weeks  later.  In  the  pic- 
ture John  Cade  was  a  short,  not  over-heavy  and 
very  alert  boy  of  seventeen,  his  dark  eyes  darting 
defiance  and  his  black  hair  bristling  a  challenge. 
He  was  familiarly  known  among  the  fellows  of 
present-day  Alton  as  Johnny,  but  none  had  ever 
been  heard  to  address  him  so! 

Practice  this  first  afternoon  wasn't  a  serious 
ordeal,  for  much  time  was  given  to  verbal  instruc- 
tion, and  at  half-past  four  the  squads  were  dis- 
missed. Willard,  walking  back  to  the  gymnasium 
with  Martin  and  Bob,  said  that  it  ought  to  be  easy 
to  get  a  good  team  with  such  a  raft  of  candidates 
to  choose  from,  and  Bob  snorted  derisively. 

"  You  're  wrong,  Brand,"  he  said.  "If  we  had 
half  as  many  we'd  get  on  better.  It  takes  three 
weeks,  nearly,  to  find  out  who's  good  and  to  weed 
out  the  others,  and  that's  just  so  much  time  lost. 
Johnny's  dippy  on  the  subject  of  having  every 
fellow  who  ever  heard  of  football  come  out,  and 
it's  a  sad  mess  for  the  first  fortnight.  Of  course 
it  sometimes  happens  that  he  finds  a  player  that 
way  who  mightn't  show  up  if  he  wasn't  urged  to, 
but,  gee,  I  think  it's  piffle!  Give  me  last  year's 
first  and  second  teams,  or  what's  left  of  'em,  and 
a  dozen  chaps  who  have  made  names  where  they 
come  from  and  I'll  turn  out  as  good  a  team  as  any. 


68  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

Must  have  been  a  hundred  fellows  out  there  this 
afternoon,  and  I'll  bet  you  fifty  of  them  never 
played  a  game  of  football  in  their  lives!" 

"Sure,'*  agreed  Martin,  "but  some  of  them  are 
capable  of  playing,  you  poor  fish,  and  it's  just 
those  that  Johnny  wants  to  find.  If  they  don't 
make  good  this  year,  he's  got  them  started  for 
next.  Your  plan  might  work  all  right  this  year, 
Bob,  but  you'd  run  short  of  material  next  year. 
You've  got  to  plan  ahead,  old  son,  and  that's  what 
Johnny  does." 

"Are  there  many  of  last  season's  fellows  left?'* 
asked  Willard. 

"Six  first-string  chaps,"  answered  Bob.  "Joe, 
Stacey  Ross,  Jack  Macon,  Gil  Tarver,  Arn  Lake 
and  myself.  There  is  quite  a  bunch  of  good  last 
year  subs  and  second  team  fellows,  though.  And 
then  there's  Mart!" 

"Yes,  and  Mart's  going  to  try  for  something 
besides  guard  position  this  year,"  remarked  that 
youth.  "With  you  and  Joe  holding  down  each 
side  of  center  there's  no  hope  for  me.  Last  season 
I  lived  in  hope  that  Joe  would  get  killed  or  that 
you'd  be  fired,  but  nothing  happened.  This  thing 
of  waiting  around  for  dead  men's  shoes  is  dull 
work ! ' ' 

"What  are  you  going  after!"  laughed  Bob. 


FIRST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  69 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Martin  discouragedly. 
"How'd  I  do  as  a  full-back?" 

'  *  Great !  Say,  Mart,  do  something  for  me,  will 
you!  Go  and  tell  Johnny  to  let  you  play  fuIU 
back!" 

' 'Oh,  dry  up,  you  big  ape!  I  could  play  full- 
back as  well  as  Steve  Browne  can." 

" Steve  hasn't  a  chance!" 

"Who,  then?" 

1  'Search  me!  We've  got  to  find  someone. 
Steve's  a  good  chap,  but  he  hasn't  the  weight, 
speed,  or  fight  for  full-back.  If  we  could  buy 
Brand's  brother  out  of  the  Navy,  now — " 

"Well,  you  did  your  best,"  laughed  Martin. 
"You  got  the  right  bag,  but  the  wrong  boy!  Look 
here,  Brand — " 

"I  refuse  to  answer  to  that  name,"  said  Wil- 
lard  haughtily. 

"What's  the  matter  with  it?  It's  a  perfectly 
good  name.  What  I  was  about  to  say  when  so 
rudely  interrupted — " 

"What  I  was  about  to  say,"  interjected  Bob, 
' '  is  that  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  hurry  up  a  bit 
and  get  ahead  of  some  of  this  mob.  If  we  don't 
we'll  be  waiting  around  until  supper  time  for  a 
shower!" 

* '  Come  on,  then :  stir  your  stumps,  slow  poke  1 


70  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

I  was  going  to  say,  Brand,  that  it's  your  duty  to 
either  fill  the  full-back  position  yourself  or  find 
someone  to  fill  it.  You  were — admitted  to  Alton 
on  your  representation  that  you  were  a  full- 
back—" 

"  'Admitted'  is  good!"  jeered  Willard. 

"And  you  aren't,"  Martin  proceeded,  unheed- 
ing the  interruption.  "Fellows  are  asking  Joe 
where  Gordon  Harmon  is  and  Joe's  having  an 
awful  time  explaining  how  the  deal  fell  through. 
He's  told  four  quite  different  stories  so  far  and 
is  working  on  a  fifth!  You  could  save  Joe  a  lot 
of  mental  worry,  Brand,  if  you  turned  yourself 
into  a  star  full-back." 

"I'm  afraid  I'm  a  bit  light,"  laughed  Willard. 
"Maybe  I  could  find  a  full-back  for  you,  though,  if 
the  reward  was  big  enough." 

"You'll  receive  the  undying  gratitude  of  Joe 
and  the  key  of  the  city. ' ' 

"Huh,  I've  seen  the  city!"  said  Willard. 

The  "city,"  though,  in  spite  of  Willard 's  sar- 
casm, was  really  a  very  nice  one.  Not,  of  course, 
that  it  was  more  than  a  town,  and  a  small  one  at 
that,  but  it  was  clean  and  well  laid  out,  with  plenty 
of  trees,  lots  of  modestly  attractive  residences  and 
a  sufficiency  of  wide-awake  stores.  When  Willard 
said  he  had  seen  it  he  was  enlarging  on  the  truth, 


FIRST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  71 

for  it  was  not  until  the  day  succeeding  the  remark 
that  he  really  had  a  thorough  look  at  it.  Then 
Martin  took  him  in  tow  and,  since  there  were 
few  recitations  on  Saturdays,  they  spent  an  hour 
or  more  roaming  about  it.  There  were  two  dis- 
tinct shopping  centers  in  Alton.  One  lay  along 
Main  Street  a  good  half-mile  from  the  Academy, 
and  on  the  side  streets  adjacent,  and  one  occu- 
pied two  blocks  on  West  Street,  scarcely  more 
than  a  long  stone-throw  from  the  school.  The 
latter  catered  almost  exclusively  to  the  students, 
and  the  latter  found  few  excuses  for  going  further 
afield  to  make  their  purchases.  Martin  told  Wil- 
lard  which  of  the  nearby  ice  cream  parlors  had 
the  best  soda  fountain,  showed  him  which  of  the 
stationery  stores  was  most  popular,  where  he 
could  buy  haberdashery  at  fair  prices,  where  to 
get  his  shoes  shined  if  such  an  extravagant  pro- 
ceeding appealed  to  him,  where  the  best  barber 
shop  was — even  cautioning  him  against  "the 
wop  at  the  third  chair  who  would  shave  your  neck 
if  you  didn't  watch  him" — and,  in  short,  thor- 
oughly initiated  him  into  the  mysteries  of  West 
Street  buying.  In  school  parlance,  the  locality 
was  "Bagdad,"  although  the  shops  were  never 
referred  to  as  "bazaars." 
"You  can  get  tick  at  any  of  them,"  Martin  ex- 


72  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

plained,  "but  they'll  make  it  mighty  uncomfort- 
able for  you  if  you  don't  pay  up  every  half-year, 
and  faculty  sort  of  frowns  on  running  up  bills. 
It's  better  to  pay  cash  if  you  can,  Brand.  Besides, 
you  can  usually  jew  'em  down  if  you  have  the 
money  in  your  hand.  Last  spring  Stacey  Ross 
bought  a  suit  over  there  at  Girtle 's  and  they 
charged  it  to  him  at  sixty  dollars,  and  a  fellow 
called  'Poke'  Little  went  and  paid  cash  for  one 
just  like  it  and  got  off  for  forty-seven-fifty.  Stacey 
had  a  fit  and  went  back  and  read  the  riot  act.  But 
the  old  geezer  told  him  that  'time  was  money'!" 
Martin  chuckled.  "In  his  case  two  months'  time 
was  twelve  dollars  and  a  half!  Stacey  got  even, 
though." 

"How?"  asked  Willard. 

"Got  a  thin  fellow  named  Patterson,  a  sopho- 
more, to  put  the  suit  on  and  walk  up  and  down 
the  block  for  an  hour  one  Saturday  afternoon. 
The  clothes  hung  all  over  Patterson  and  he  looked 
like  a  scarecrow,  and  he  carried  a  placard  around 
his  neck  that  said:  'This  suit  was  bought  at  Gir- 
tle's.' Old  Girtle  was  furious  and  tried  to  get 
Patterson  to  go  away.  Offered  him  ten  dollars, 
Patterson  said,  but  it  didn't  sound  like  Girtle! 
Anyhow,  Patterson  kept  on  walking  up  and  down 
and  about  two  dozen  kids  went  with  him  and  a 


FIRST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  73 

lot  of  the  fellows  stood  around  and  cheered  and 
we  had  quite  a  fine  moment!  'Mac'  had  Stacey 
on  the  carpet  about  it,  but  when  Stacey  explained 
Mac  only  smiled  and  let  him  go." 

"Is  'Mac'  what  you  call  the  Principal?"  asked 
Willard. 

"Yes,  it's  short  for  'Doctor  Maitland  McPher- 
son.'  Have  you  met  him  yet?  He's  a  good  sort, 
Mac  is.  There's  a  story  that  some  years  back 
there  was  a  wild  westerner  here  from  Wyoming 
or  Arkansas  or  some  of  those  places  and  he  was 
talking  one  day  in  the  corridor  in  Academy  and 
Mac  was  in  one  of  the  classrooms  right  near,  and 
this  fellow — I  forget  his  name;  Smith,  maybe — 
called  him  'the  old  Prince,'  and  Mac  overheard 
him  and  came  out.  'Were  you  referring  to  me, 
Smith!'  he  asked.  'Yes,  sir.'  'And  what  was  the 
name  you  gave  me?'  'Prince,  sir;  that's  short 
for  Principal.'  'Ah,' said  Mac.  'Most  ingenious! 
You  may  go  on  Hall  Restriction  one  week  for 
"int."  '  'Int'  is  short  for  interest." 

Football  affairs  got  straightened  out  that  after- 
noon and  Willard  found  himself  in  C  Squad  with 
some  twenty  or  so  other  candidates  whose  knowl- 
edge of  football  ranged  from  fair  to  middling. 
Only  the  simpler  exercises  were  indulged  in  and 
the  hour-and-a-half  period  stretched  out  intermin- 


74  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

ably.  The  day  was  unseasonably  warm  and  the 
bored  youth  who  had  C  Squad  in  charge  was 
unable  to  work  up  much  enthusiasm.  Willard 
was  heartily  glad  when  the  session  was  over.  He 
presumed  that  a  certain  amount  of  catching  and 
passing  was  beneficial  to  him,  but  he  mildly  re- 
sented spending  an  hour  and  a  half  at  it.  Joe 
Myers  showed  every  indication  of  acceding  to  Wil- 
lard's  request  that  he  be  allowed  to  stand  on  his 
own  feet,  for  so  far  Joe  had  paid  no  attention 
to  the  newcomer  during  practice.  There  were 
times  this  afternoon  when  Willard  rather  wished 
that  he  hadn't  been  so  independent.  He  would 
not  have  resented  it  a  bit  had  Joe  yanked  him  out 
of  that  beginner's  squad  and  put  him  where  he 
could  have  worked  with  something  besides  his 
hands !  By  five  o  'clock,  when  the  end  came,  Wil- 
lard was  sick  of  the  sight  and  the  feel  of  a  foot- 
ball! 

That  evening,  however,  when  he  accompanied 
Joe  and  Martin  and  Bob  to  the  Broadway  Theater, 
the  moving  picture  house  patronized  by  the  school, 
Joe  inquired  most  solicitously  about  Willard 's 
progress  in  practice.  He  did  not,  though,  seem 
much  concerned  when  Willard  hinted  that  he  was 
wasting  his  time  learning  how  to  pass  a  football 
"It  is  dreary  work,  isn't  it!"  said  Joe  cheerfully. 


FIEST  DAYS  AT  ALTON  75 

"Well,  there  won't  be  much  more  of  it,  Brand. 
You'll  get  into  formations  next  week.  By  the 
way,  you  want  to  try  for  half-back,  don't  you? 
Hm.  That's  so.  Hm.  Too  bad  you're  so  light. 
Ever  try  playing  end?" 

Willard  answered  that  he  never  had,  whereupon 
Joe  remarked:  "  'S  'at  so?"  in  an  absent  way 
and  said  he  hoped  there 'd  be  a  good  comedy  at 
the  theater! 


CHAPTER 

IN   THE   COACH'S  BOOM 

WHETHER  the  comedy  was  good  or  not,  it  at  least 
evoked  much  laughter,  and  was  followed  by  a 
thrilling  "big  picture "  that  worked  Willard  to 
a  pitch  of  excitement  that  lasted  until  he  was  out 
on  State  Street  again.  They  ran  into  Mr.  Cade 
in  front  of  the  theater  and  he  fell  into  step  with 
them  as  they  walked  back  toward  the  Green.  He 
and  Joe  and  Bob  talked  about  the  show,  while 
Martin  and  "Willard  followed  behind  and  listened. 
At  West  Street  Bob  proposed  drinks,  and  they 
crossed  to  The  Mirror  and  sat  about  a  tiny  table 
and  drank  colorful  concoctions  through  paper 
straws.  The  coach  rather  surprised  Willard  by 
displaying  positive  enthusiasm  for  his  tipple, 
which,  as  near  as  Willard  could  determine,  con- 
tained a  little  of  everything  that  could  come  out 
of  the  glistening  taps!  Willard  was  a  little  bit 
too  much  in  awe  of  the  coach  to  feel  quite  at  ease, 
and  his  contributions  to  the  conversation  were 
few  and  brief.  Not  that  the  talk  was  very  erudite, 
however,  for  Bob  talked  a  good  deal  of  nonsense 

76 


IN  THE  COACH'S  BOOM  77 

and  Mr.  Cade  certainly  didn't  oppress  them  with 
a  flow  of  wisdom.  On  the  contrary,  he  laughed  at 
Bob  a  good  deal  and  said  one  or  two  funny  things 
himself,  things  at  which  Willard  laughed  a  bit 
constrainedly,  not  being  certain  that  it  was  right 
to  greet  anything  a  head  football  coach  said  with 
levity.  At  Schuyler  High  School  the  coach  had 
been  a  most  dignified  and  unapproachable  marti- 
net of  whom  everyone  stood  in  admiring  awe! 

When  they  went  out  Bob  leaned  carelessly 
across  the  counter  and  instructed  the  young  lady 
with  the  enormous  puffs  over  her  ears  to  "put 
that  down  to  me,  please."  Willard,  following  the 
others  out,  reflected  that,  while  trading  on  a  cash 
basis  might  be  wiser,  one  missed  many  fine  mo- 
ments by  not  having  a  charge  account!  (This, 
perhaps,  is  a  good  place  to  explain  that  the  ex- 
pression "fine  moments"  was  widely  current  at 
Alton  that  term.  Like  many  other  expressions,  its 
origin  was  a  mystery,  and,  like  them,  its  vogue 
grew  by  leaps  and  bounds  until  even  the  freshmen 
were  having  their  "fine  moments"  and  Mr.  Fow- 
ler, in  English  7,  prohibited  its  use  in  themes.) 

Near  the  end  of  State  Street,  with  the  lights 
on  the  Green  gleaming  through  the  trees  ahead, 
Mr.  Cade  proposed  that  the  boys  pay  him  a  visit, 
and  Willard  found  himself  turning  in  at  a  little 


78  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

white  gate.  The  old  green-shuttered  Colonial 
mansion  on  the  corner  was  one  of  several  houses 
standing  across  from  the  Green  that  had  at  one 
time  or  another,  sometimes  as  a  gift,  sometimes 
by  purchase,  become  Academy  property.  This 
particular  mansion  was  occupied  by  three  of  the 
married  faculty  members  and,  in  turn,  by  the 
football  and  baseball  coaches.  Mr.  Cade's  apart- 
ment was  on  the  lower  floor,  at  the  right,  two 
huge,  high-ceilinged  rooms  separated  by  what  had 
once  been  a  pantry  but  was  now  a  dressing  and 
bathroom.  The  furnishings  were  comfortable 
but  plain,  and  in  the  front  room  a  generous  grate 
eked  out  the  efforts  of  a  discouraged  furnace.  To- 
night, however,  the  sight  of  the  fireplace  brought 
no  pleasurable  thrill.  Instead,  it  was  the  four 
big,  wide-open  windows  that  attracted  the  vis- 
itors. Those  in  front  opened  on  a  narrow  veranda 
set  with  tall  white  pillars,  those  on  the  side  shed 
the  light  of  the  room  onto  a  maze  of  shrubbery 
and  trees  beyond  which  the  illumined  windows  of 
the  dormitories  twinkled.  There  was  a  big  table 
in  the  center  of  the  living-room  littered  with  books 
and  writing  materials,  smoking  paraphernalia, 
gloves,  a  riding  crop,  a  camera,  a  blue  sweater 
and  many  other  things,  a  fine  and  interesting 
hodgepodge  that  Willard,  pausing  beside  it, 


IN  THE  COACH'S  ROOM  79 

viewed  curiously.  The  object  that  engaged  his 
closest  attention,  though,  was  a  board  about  thirty 
inches  square.  It  was  covered  with  green  felt  on 
which  at  intervals  of  an  inch  white  lines  crossed. 
On  the  margins  were  figures:  "5,"  "10,"  "15," 
and  so  on  up  to  "  50. ' '  Stuck  at  random  into  the 
board  were  queer  little  colored  thumb-tacks, 
twenty-two  in  all.  Half  of  them  were  gray  and 
half  of  them  were  red,  and  each  held  letters: 
"L.  H.,"  "R.  G.,"  "L.  E.,"  and  so  on.  Willard 
was  still  studying  the  board,  its  purpose  slowly 
dawning  on  him,  when  Mr.  Cade  spoke. 

"Looking  at  my  'parlor  gridiron,'  Harmon?" 
he  asked.  "Nice  little  plaything,  isn't  it?"  He 
came  to  Willard 's  side  and  lifted  the  board  from 
the  table.  "I  made  it  myself,  and  I'm  sort  of 
proud  of  it,  for  I'm  all  thumbs  when  it  comes  to 
doing  anything  with  my  hands.  Each  of  the  inch 
lines  represents  five  yards,  do  you  see?  And  I  use 
these  thumb-tacks  for  the  players.  It's  rather  a 
help  when  it  comes  to  studying  out  a  play;  al- 
though I  acknowledge  that  I  can  get  on  faster  with 
the  back  of  an  envelope  and  a  pencil  stub!" 

"I  think  it's  awfully  clever,"  said  Willard  ad- 
miringly. "It's  just  half  a  field,  though,  isn't  it, 
wr?" 

"That's  all;  from  the  goal-line  to  the  fifty-yard- 


80  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

line.  That's  all  that's  needed,  you  see.  Want  to 
play  with  it?"  The  coach  laughed  and  wheeled 
a  deep-seated  rep-covered  armchair  to  the  table. 
"Sit  down  and  be  comfortable,"  he  added.  Wil- 
lard  subsided  embarrassedly  into  the  chair,  still 
holding  the  miniature  gridiron.  Joe  and  Bob  were 
seated  by  one  of  the  side  windows — what  breeze 
there  was  came  from  the  west  this  evening — and 
Martin  and  the  coach  shared  an  old-fashioned  sofa 
nearby.  Willard,  listening  to  the  talk,  began  to 
set  the  thumb-tacks  in  place  along  the  thirty-yard- 
line.  Presently  he  had  become  so  interested  in 
arranging  a  forward-pass  defense  for  the  gray 
tacks  that  he  had  forgotten  all  about  the  others. 
He  wasn't  quite  certain  that  the  Gray's  ends 
should  play  all  the  way  up  into  the  line,  and  he 
set  them  back  half  the  distance  to  the  next  white 
mark.  Then  he  concluded  that  the  pass  would  be 
made  by  that  suspicious-looking  red  tack  labeled 
"L.  H."  and  that  it  would  go  to  one  of  the  red 
ends.  Consequently,  he  advanced  the  gray  ends 
up  to  the  line  once  more,  but  a  trifle  further  out, 
so  that  they  might  cut  in  quickly  and  spoil  the 
throw.  After  that  he  pulled  the  Gray's  quarter- 
back in  another  yard  or  two,  chancing  that  the 
ball  would  not  go  more  than  fifteen  yards.  Then 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  for  the  play, 


IN  THE  COACH'S  ROOM  81 

and,  since  it  didn't  materialize,  he  set  the  board 
back  on  the  table  and  gave  his  attention  again 
to  the  others. 

"Two  years  ago,"  Mr.  Cade  was  saying, 
' '  there  were  five  of  us  in  here  for  almost  a  week : 
Levington  and  Sproule  and  Jack  Tanner —  Who 
was  the  chap  helped  coach  the  tackles  that  year, 
Myers?  Do  you  remember?  Tall  fellow  who 
wore  spectacles  and — " 
1  'Clarke,  sir?  No,  I  know!  Salters!" 
" That's  right!  Salters!  He  was  a  good  hand 
and  I'd  like  to  get  him  back  again  this  fall.  Well, 
there  were  five  of  us,  I  remember,  and  we  were 
bunked  all  over  the  place ;  three  of  us  in  the  bed- 
room and  two  of  us  in  here.  We  had  rather  a 
good  time,  but  no  one  got  much  sleep.  I  remem- 
ber the  night  before  the  Kenly  game  we  sat  up 
until  nearly  three  o'clock.  Our  left  tackle,  Gads- 
den,  had  sprained  his  ankle  that  day;  someone 
pushed  him  coming  out  of  Academy;  and  we  had 
to  make  over  the  whole  plan  of  battle.  Gadsden, 
you'll  remember,  was  our  long  punter  and  we'd 
mapped  out  a  kicking  game.  To  make  things 
worse,  it  began  to  rain  and  sleet  that  evening, 
and  we'd  looked  for  a  dry  field.  We  certainly 
had  our  hands  full  that  night.  It  was  Levington 
who  suggested  pulling  the  guards  out  and  using 


82  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

them  on  end  runs,  and  we  won  on  those  plays. 
You  see  our  backfield  was  pretty  light  and  the 
wet  field  slowed  them  up.  You  played  awhile  in 
that  game,  didn't  you,  Myers,  toward  the  end!" 

"Yes,  for  three  or  four  minutes.  I  was  in 
when  we  made  our  second  score.  We  dumped 
their  end  and  Morgan  shot  around  for  four  yards 
and  the  touchdown." 

" That's  right.  It  looked  like  a  tie  game  until 
near  the  end.  Kenly  had  a  man  who  could  boot  a 
wet  ball  forty  yards  every  time  and  we  had  no 
one  to  meet  him  with.  But  we  certainly  wore  her 
ends  to  a  frazzle.  She  used  three  pairs  before 
she  got  through!  It  was  nothing  but  fight  and 
determination  that  won  that  game,  fellows.  On 
paper  we  figured  about  seventy  per  cent  to  their 
one  hundred  before  the  start.  They  had  us  licked, 
but  they  didn't  know  it,  and  we  never  told 
them!" 

1 1 What  about  this  year,  sir?"  asked  Martin. 

''How  many  snowstorms  are  we  going  to  have 
in  January?"  asked  the  coach  laughingly.  "It's 
rather  too  early  for  predictions,  Proctor.  But 
for  all  I  can  see  now  we've  got  a  better  show 
than  we  had  two  years  ago,  and  we  licked  her 
then.  We're  certainly  going  to  be  in  better  shape 
than  last  year." 


IN  THE  COACH'S  ROOM  83 

" We've  got  to  find  a  full-back,"  said  Joe  du- 
biously. 

"Yes,  and  a  new  tackle  and  maybe  an  end.  But 
we'll  do  it.  There's  a  lot  of  good  material  to 
pick  from  this  year." 

"I  suppose  you've  heard,  sir,  that  Kenly's  got 
that  fellow  Timmons  who  played  left  end  on  Mill- 
wood High  last  season,"  said  Bob. 

"No,  is  that  so?    Is  he  good?" 

"They  say  so.  Funny  thing  we  don't  seem  to 
catch  any  of  the  stars,  Mr.  Cade." 

"We  don't  want  them,  Newhall.  Stars  are  un- 
certain things.  They  have  a  mean  way  of  going 
out  unexpectedly!  I'd  rather  have  a  bunch  of 
satellites  to  work  with  and  turn  out  my  own 
stars!" 

The  others  laughed,  but  Bob  shook  his  head, 
not  altogether  convinced.  "That's  all  right,  sir, 
but  you'd  think  we'd  get  more  good  players  here. 
It  isn't  as  if  Alton  was  a  small  school  or  a  punk 
one.  Of  course  those  fellows  with  big  reputa- 
tions don't  always  pan  out  when  you  get  them, 
but,  just  the  same,  I'd  like  to  see  some  of  them 
head  this  way  now  and  then!" 

"I  dare  say  it  wouldn't  hurt,"  agreed  the 
coach.  "But,  fellows,  the  longer  I  stick  at  this 
coaching  game  the  more  convinced  I  am  that 


84  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

when  it  comes  to  the  last  analysis  it  isn't  plays 
or  players  that  win  games;  it's  spirit!  Take 
eleven  corking  men,  each  one  a  master  of  his  po- 
sition, and  get  them  so  that  they  play  together 
like  a  well-oiled  machine,  and  then  run  them  up 
against  a  team  of  ordinary  players  without  much 
team-work  or  anything  else  except  a  great,  big, 
overwhelming  desire  to  win,  and  what  happens 
three  times  out  of  four?  Why,  that  inferior  team 
wins!  She  may  make  mistakes,  she  may  play 
ragged  ball,  but  grim  determination  and  fight  and 
spirit  get  her  there!  You  see  it  happen  all  the 
time.  I  can  tell  you  of  twenty  games  where  the 
best  team  was  beaten  just  because,  while  she 
wanted  to  win,  she  didn't  want  to  win  hard 
enough ! ' ' 

''Yes,  sir,  I  guess  that's  so,"  agreed  Joe. 
"And  I  guess  it's  a  lot  easier  to  teach  a  team  to 
play  good  football  than  it  is  to  put  the  right  spirit 
in  them." 

"Of  course  it  is!  You've  got  to  begin  with  the 
School,  Myers,  and  work  down  to  the  team.  If  the 
School  hasn't  got  the  right  spirit,  the  team  won't 
have  it.  And  that's  why  I  try  to  get  as  many 
fellows  out  for  football  at  the  beginning  of  the 
year  as  I  can.  Or,  at  least,  it's  one  reason.  In- 
terest a  fellow,  no  matter  how  little,  in  the  team, 


IN  THE  COACH'S  KOOM  85 

and  he'll  believe  in  it  and  work  for  it.  Even  if 
a  fellow  comes  out  only  to  be  dropped  three  or 
four  days  later,  he's  'smelled  leather'  and  he 
never  quite  forgets  it.  He  thinks  well  of  his  more 
successful  companion  who  has  made  good,  even 
though  he  may  be  secretly  envious  of  him,  and  the 
team  and  its  success  means  a  lot  more  to  him  than 
it  does  to  the  chap  who  has  never  had  anything 
to  do  with  it.  The  team  that  feels  the  School 
behind  it  works  hard  and  loyally  and,  when  the 
big  test  comes,  fights  like  the  very  dickens !  And 
it's  fight  that  wins  football  games,  just  as  it's 
fight  that  wins  battles.  And  that's  that!" 

Mr.  Cade  ended  with  a  little  laugh  that  seemed 
to  apologize  for  his  vehemence,  but  none  of  his 
listeners  joined  in  it.  After  a  moment  Martin 
said:  "There's  a  little  school  they  call  Upton 
Academy  near  my  home,  Mr.  Cade.  It  has  only 
about  a  hundred  and  twenty  students,  I  suppose, 
and  more  than  half  of  'em  are  girls.  But  they 
meet  teams  from  bigger  schools  and  beat  them 
right  along.  One  of  the  teachers  coaches  them 
and  the  girls  go  with  them  and  cheer  like  mad 
and  they  wipe  up  the  whole  county!" 

"I  guess  it's  spirit  in  that  case,"  said  the 
coach.  "And  maybe  the  girls  have  a  lot  to  do 
with  it.  Ever  notice  what  a  deal  of  fighting  spirit 


86 

girls  show?  First  thing  we  know — or  our  chil- 
dren know — the  girls  will  be  playing  real  foot- 
ball. And  when  they  do,  fellows,  look  out!"  Mr. 
Cade  chuckled  at  his  direful  prediction. 

A  little  later  the  boys  arose  to  go  and  Mr. 
Cade,  moving  to  the  table,  took  up  the  felt-covered 
board  and  looked  at  it  curiously.  "Defense 
for  forward-pass,  eh,  Harmon?"  he  said.  "Which 
of  these  red  fellows  is  making  the  toss?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  answered  Willard.  "I 
was  playing  the  Gray's  end  of  it.  But  I  figured 
that  left  half-back  was  throwing  to  an  end." 

The  others  gathered  around  to  see  and  Mr. 
Cade  looked  speculatively  at  Willard  for  a  mo- 
ment before  he  smiled  and  laid  the  board  back 
on  the  table.  "I'd  pull  my  ends  in  further  in  that 
case,"  he  said,  "and  bring  them  nearer  the  play, 
What  position  are  you  after?" 

"Half-back,  sir." 

"I  see.  Well,  it's  an  interesting  job,  half- 
back's. Lots  of  chance  for  initiative  there.  Quick 
thinking,  too.  Well,  good  night,  fellows.  Drop 
in  again  some  evening.  I'm  generally  home." 


CHAPTER  VHI 

THE  BOY  IN   THE  GEEEN    SWEATER 

THE  following  Wednesday,  Willard  received  pro- 
motion of  a  sort.  By  that  time  the  number  of 
candidates  at  practice  had  noticeably  lessened  and 
the  four  squads  had  become  three.  Last  year's 
first  team  survivors  and  a  goodly  number  of  the 
second  team  players  formed  Squad  A,  while  some 
twenty  youths  who  showed  particular  promise 
made  up  Squad  B.  Into  the  latter  company  Wil- 
lard went.  A  third  squad  whose  personnel 
changed  from  day  to  day  as  new  candidates  ap- 
peared or  old  ones  fell  out,  was  known  officially 
as  C,  but  popularly  as  "The  Goats." 

Formation  drill  had  begun  and  Willard  ran 
through  signals  at  the  left  half-back  position,  al- 
ternating with  another  youth  named  Kruger. 
Only  the  simplest  formations  were  used  and  the 
pace  never  exceeded  a  trot.  Preliminary  to  this, 
there  was  tackling  practice  at  the  dummy  each 
day,  and  more  or  less  passing  and  starting.  After 
formation  drill  Willard  joined  nearly  a  dozen 

87 


88  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

other  backfield  candidates  and  put  in  a  half-hour 
of  punting  and  catching  and  running.  Willard's 
kicking  education  had  been  rather  neglected,  for 
at  high  school,  during  the  two  years  he  had 
played,  the  full-back  and  quarter  had  shared  the 
kicking  duties.  Here,  however,  it  was  held  that 
a  back  should  be  proficient  in  every  department 
of  the  game,  and  Willard  showed  up  rather  poorly 
beside  many  of  his  rivals. 

The  second  eleven  came  into  existence  the  last 
of  that  week  and  the  first  real  scrimmage  of  the 
season  took  place  on  Friday  between  it  and  the 
first  in  preparation  for  the  initial  contest  the 
next  day.  Willard  was  glad  he  had  not  been 
picked  for  the  second,  for  he  had  not  yet  given 
up  hope  of  better  things,  and  knew  from  experi- 
ence how  difficult  it  is  to  make  one's  way  from 
the  second  team  to  the  first.  Several  fellows 
from  Squad  C  were  selected,  however,  and  among 
them  Kruger,  which  left  Willard  for  awhile  in 
undisputed  possession  of  the  left  half-back  job. 
It  wasn't  long,  though,  before  a  weedy,  tempera- 
mental boy  named  Longstreth  took  Kruger 's 
place.  Longstreth  had  been  promoted  from  the 
Goats  and  seemed  to  have  an  idea  that  his  mis- 
sion in  life  was  to  inject  what  he  called  "ta- 
basco" into  Squad  B.  One  way  of  doing  it  was 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATER     89 

to  aid  in  the  coaching,  and  he  simply  oozed 
advice  to  both  Coach  Cade  and  Richards,  the 
quarter-back.  The  coach  stood  it  patiently,  but 
Ned  Richards  ultimately  turned  upon  him  and 
wounded  his  sensibilities  horribly,  so  horribly 
that  Longstreth  became  a  changed  boy  and  delib- 
erately let  the  squad  worry  along  without  "ta- 
basco." But  most  of  this  was  later  on  and  sub- 
sequent to  the  Alton  High  School  game,  which 
started  the  season  for  the  Academy. 

Willard  watched  that  contest  from  the  bench: 
or,  rather,  from  a  seat  on  the  ground  near  the 
bench,  since  the  capacity  of  the  bench  was  lim- 
ited. It  wasn't  much  of  a  game,  even  for  a  first 
one,  and  there  was  nothing  approaching  excite- 
ment in  it  until,  near  the  end  of  the  third  ten- 
minute  period,  High  School  threw  a  scare  into 
her  opponent  by  scoring  a  touchdown  when  Coch- 
ran,  at  right  half,  dropped  the  ball  and  the  High 
School  left  end  scooted  away  with  it  for  sixty-odd 
yards  and  brought  joy  to  the  visitors.  Acad- 
emy's quarter-back  ought  to  have  stopped  him, 
but  Tarver  made  a  miserable  tackle  and  the  run- 
ner wrenched  himself  loose  and  went  over  the 
line  without  further  challenge. 

High  School  missed  an  easy  goal  and  the  score 
was  tied  at  6 — 6,  for  the  Academy  had  been  able 


90  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

to  put  over  but  one  touchdown  against  a  weaker 
but  plucky  enemy  and  Cochran  had  missed  the 
goal  as  badly  as  the  opponent  had  later.  The 
Academy  rooters  woke  up  from  their  lethargy 
then,  and  there  was  some  cheering  during  the 
remainder  of  the  period  and  throughout  the  last 
quarter.  It  was  not  until  the  latter  was  well 
along,  however,  that  Academy  pulled  the  game 
out  of  the  fire.  Then,  working  to  striking  dis- 
tance by  means  of  two  forward-passes  that  took 
the  ball  from  midfield  to  High  School's  thirty- 
yard-line,  the  Gray-and-Gold  hammered  the  op- 
posing left  side  until  it  gave  way  and  Macon,  on 
an  end-around  play,  landed  the  pigskin  over  the 
goal-line.  This  time,  Cochran  having  given  way 
to  a  substitute,  Tarver  tried  for  a  goal  and  made 
it,  and  the  game  ended  a  few  minutes  later  with 
the  Academy  on  the  long  end  of  a  13 — 6  score. 

Coach  Cade  used  many  substitutes  during  the 
final  quarter,  and  Martin  Proctor  was  one  of 
them,  and  Willard  was  delighted  to  see  his  chum 
put  up  a  fine  game  at  right  guard  when  Bob  went 
out.  At  left  half,  the  position  that  Willard  was 
especially  interested  in,  Arnold  Lake  played  to 
the  end  of  the  third  period  and  then  gave  place 
to  Mawson.  Both  played  well  and  Willard  was 
more  certain  than  before  that  if  he  was  to  make 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATER     91 

the  first  team  this  year  it  would  have  to  be  in 
some  other  capacity  than  that  of  left  half! 

When  the  game  was  done  the  Squad  A  players 
who  had  not  participated  were  lined  up  against 
a  Squad  B  eleven  and  there  followed  a  short 
scrimmage  in  which  Willard  played  left  half  for 
B  and  had  a  lot  of  fun.  Squad  A  wasn't  formid- 
able and  it  was  no  great  stunt  to  gain  outside  her 
tackles,  and  once  Willard  got  nicely  away  and 
would  have  made  the  only  score  of  the  scrimmage 
if  an  obnoxious  youth  named  Hutchins,  and  bet- 
ter known  as  "Hutch,"  hadn't  pulled  him  down 
on  the  six  yards.  From  there,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts,  B  couldn't  make  much  gain  and  the 
fourth  down  found  the  ball  a  yard  short  of  the 
line.  The  scrimmage  ended  with  a  score  and 
the  empty  stand  attested  the  amount  of  interest 
the  game  provided  the  onlookers  who  had  re- 
mained after  the  big  contest.  But  Willard  had 
enjoyed  it  and  won  a  set  of  bruised  fingers  when 
one  of  the  enemy  had  set  an  ungentle  foot 
thereon,  and  he  was  quite  contented  the  rest  of 
the  evening.  But  he  did  a  lot  of  thinking  and 
consulted  Martin  on  the  advisability  of  trying  for 
an  end  position,  and  showed  no  gratitude  when 
he  was  advised  to  fatten  himself  up  and  try  for 
center ! 


92  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"You  seem  to  be  willing  to  stick  on  the  bench 
all  season,"  he  said  aggrievedly,  "but  I  don't  see 
any  fun  in  that.  If  I — " 

"How  do  you  mean,  stick  on  the  bench!"  de- 
manded Martin.  "I'm  not  going  to  stick  on  any, 
bench.  Haven't  you  noticed  how  pale  and  wan 
Bob  is  getting  to  look?  He  won't  last  much 
longer.  I  think  it's  sleeping  sickness  or  some- 
thing else  slow  and  certain.  He  won't  acknowl- 
edge he's  sick,  but  I  can  tell!  There's  a  wor- 
ried look  about  his  eyes  and  Gal  Grainger  says 
he  sleeps  more  than  he  used  to." 

' '  Oh,  shut  up ! "  said  Willard,  grinning. 

"Fact,  though!  You  look  at  Bob  some  time 
when  he  doesn't  know  he's — ah — under  observa- 
tion and  you'll  see  what  I  mean.  Sleeping  sick- 
ness is  very  insidious,  Brand,  but  always  fatal. 
I'm  sorry  for  Bob,  of  course,  but  I'm  not  hypo- 
critical about  it!" 

"Bob  will  be  playing  guard  and  you'll  be  lug- 
ging the  water  pail  when  we  meet  Kenly,"  re- 
torted Willard.  "I'm  in  earnest,  though.  Why 
shouldn't  I  try  for  end  instead?" 

"Because  you're  a  half-back,  sonny.  Playing 
end  is  something  else  again,  and  you'd  have  to 
learn  a  lot  of  new  tricks,  and  the  season  might  bo 
over  before  you'd  learn  'em." 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATER     93 

"Well,  I'd  be  ready  for  next  year,"  murmured 
Willard. 

"If  that's  all  you're  looking  for,  stay  where 
you  are.  They'll  be  using  half-backs  as  well  as 
ends  next  year,  unless  the  Rules  Committee  gets 
gay  again!" 

"Well,  of  course  I  do  want  to  make  the  team 
this  fall,"  acknowledged  the  other. 

"Naturally.  So  do  I.  I  wanted  to  last  fall, 
too,  but  a  cruel  fate  willed  otherwise." 

"Oh,  you  don't  care,"  scoffed  Willard.  "You 
haven't  any — any — ambition." 

"Ambition?  Get  out!  I'm  full  of  ambish! 
But  I  don't  propose  to  be  unhappy  because  I 
can't  have  the  whole  pie.  I  like  the  fun  of  play- 
ing, Brand,  and  I  don't  worry  much  because  I 
don't  always  get  into  the  game.  After  all,  I'm 
doing  my  bit,  you  know.  Someone's  got  to  be 
second-choice.  Besides,  think  what  a  comfort  it 
is  to  Joe  and  Bob  to  know  that  if  they  have  to 
leave  the  game  there  I  am  ready  to  take  their 
places  and  carry  on  the  good  work!  Don't  you 
suppose  that  thought  helps  'em  to  weather  many 
a — many  a  dark  hour?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  answered  Willard  disgustedly. 
"But  I  guess  it  helps  them  to  go  on  playing 


94  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

sometimes  when  they're  all  in!  The  idea  of  let- 
ting you  in — " 

" Don't  say  it!"  warned  Martin,  laying  a  hand 
significantly  on  a  book.  "Them's  hard  words! 
Listen,  Brand:  are  we  going  to  the  lecture  or 
aren't  we  not?" 

"What's  it  all  about!" 

"The  Cliff  Dwellers  of — of  Montana,  or  some 
place." 

"Arizona!" 

"Maybe,"  replied  Martin  cautiously.  "Any- 
way, the  fellow's  good.  He  was  here  last  year. 
Let's  go.  I've  always  wished  I'd  been  born  a 
cliff-dweller.  There's  something  awfully  fasci- 
nating in  the  idea  of  shinning  up  a  tree-trunk  and 
climbing  through  a  window  when  you're  ready 
for  bed!  Think  what  fun  there  must  have  been 
at  a  prep  school  in  those  days.  When  the  fellow 
who  lived  above  you  was  climbing  up  all  you  had 
to  do  was  reach  out  and  push  the  tree-trunk  away. 
Gee,  you  miss  a  lot  of  innocent  amusement  by 
being  born  too  late!" 

Sunday  dawned  cloudy  and  dismal,  with  occa- 
sional sprinkles  of  rain.  Breakfast  was  a  half- 
hour  later,  and  when  that  was  over  there  was 
nothing  much  to  do  but  furbish  up  for  church. 
But  shining  one's  shoes  and  brushing  one's  Sun- 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATEE     95 

day  suit  doesn't  consume  much  time,  no  matter 
how  thorough  and  deliberate  one  may  be,  and 
after  Willard  was  ready  there  still  remained  the 
best  of  an  hour.  The  steam  heat  had  not  yet 
been  turned  on  and  the  dormitory  was  chill  and 
unsympathetic.  He  tried  to  write  a  letter  to 
the  folks  at  home,  but  only  got  as  far  as: 
"Dear  Father  and  Mother."  Martin's  usu- 
ally placid  humor  was  perceptibly  rumpled  this 
morning,  and  efforts  to  engage  him  in  conversa- 
tion resulted  in  grunts  and  growls.  Willard  was 
heartily  glad  when  it  came  time  to  start  off  for 
church,  even  though  he  felt  uncomfortable  in  a 
derby  and  detested  carrying  an  umbrella. 

Dinner  was  at  one,  a  heavy  repast  topped  off 
with  ice  cream  and  cake  that  left  the  diner  feel- 
ing like  an  anaconda  who  had  just  swallowed  a 
goat.  Willard,  who  had  failed  to  get  placed  at 
Joe's  table  and  was  with  an  unusually  uninter- 
esting group  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall,  arose  from 
the  board  wishing  he  had  not  accepted  young 
Stanley's  offer  of  his  ice  cream.  Or  perhaps  it 
was  the  cake  that  was  to  blame.  In  any  case,  he 
felt  horribly  full  and  sluggish,  and  when,  at  the 
door,  Bob  brightly  suggested  a  nice  long  tramp 
over  to  Banning  to  see  the  new  railway  bridge 
that  was  under  construction  he  shook  his  head 


96  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

and  pleaded  letters  to  write.  Banning  was  three 
miles  away,  and  Willard  wasn't  sure  he  could 
even  get  back  to  his  room  before  going  to  sleep ! 

"Well,  if  you  change  your  mind,  come  on  over 
to  the  room,"  said  Bob.  "We  won't  be  starting 
for  half  an  hour,  I  guess." 

Willard  said  he  would,  being  quite  certain  that 
his  mind  was  incapable  of  any  change.  When  he 
reached  Number  16,  Martin,  too,  was  disgustingly 
active.  "Come  on,  Brand,"  he  cried.  "We're 
going  over  to  see  the  new  bridge  at  Banning.  Get 
an  old  pair  of  shoes  on." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  any  bridges,"  replied 
Willard  morosely.  "I — I  saw  one  once." 

"What  if  you  did,  you  chump!  You  never  saw 
this  one.  Don't  be  a  piker.  Look,  it's  going  to 
clear  up!" 

Willard  gazed  through  the  window  with  lack- 
luster eyes  and  shook  his  head  feebly.  "I've  got 
to  write  home,"  he  murmured,  subsiding  into  a 
chair. 

"You  look  more  as  if  you  were  going  to  sleep," 
said  Martin  in  disgust.  "All  right,  sonny,  see 
you  later." 

Martin  went  out,  slamming  the  door  behind 
him  and  whistling  gayly  down  the  corridor.  Wil- 
lard shook  his  head  again.  He  had  never  noticed 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATER     97 

before  how  objectionably  noisy  Martin  was !  Sev- 
eral rooms  away  a  graphophone  was  playing 
loudly  and  boys  were  singing.  Everyone,  re- 
flected Willard,  seemed  to  be  unnaturally  ani- 
mated today.  He  guessed  they  hadn't  eaten  two 
plates  of  ice  cream!  After  a  long  time,  during 
which  he  stared  somnolently  at  his  shoes,  he 
pulled  himself  out  of  the  chair  with  a  groan  and 
reseated  himself  at  the  table.  Half  an  hour  later 
he  signed  the  fourth  page  of  his  letter  "Your  aff* 
son,  Willard"  and  folded  it  quickly  lest  he  yield 
to  the  temptation  to  read  it  over.  He  knew  that 
if  he  did  that  he  would  never  send  it ! 

When  it  was  ready  for  mailing  he  walked  to 
the  window  and  looked  out.  It  really  was  clear- 
ing! Even  as  he  looked,  the  sun  broke  through1 
for  a  moment  and  shone  weakly  on  the  damp  field 
and  the  running  track  beyond.  He  felt  a  good 
deal  Better  now  and  he  wished  he  had  gone  to 
Banning  with  the  others.  Well,  he  hadn't,  and 
rather  than  moon  around  in  that  chilly  room  he 
would  slip  on  an  old  suit  and  take  a  walk.  Pos- 
sibly he  would  meet  the  crowd  coming  back  later. 
He  changed  from  his  Sunday  attire  to  an  old 
pair  of  knickerbockers,  a  sweater,  golf  stockings, 
old  shoes  and  a  cap  and  set  forth,  proceeding  first 
to  the  mail  box  in  front  of  Academy  Hall  and 


98  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

getting  rid  of  his  letter.  Stacey  Ross  hailed  him 
from  a  third-story  window  of  Lykes  as  he  made 
his  way  past  toward  the  athletic  field,  and  he 
stopped  and  exchanged  badinage  for  a  moment, 
declining  Stacey 's  invitations,  the  first  of  which 
was  to  "Come  on  up,"  and  the  second  to  "Go  to 
the  dickens!" 

He  knew  that  the  river  lay  somewhere  to  the 
west  and  not  more  than  a  mile  distant,  and  he  set 
out  to  find  it.  His  way  led  him  across  the  athletic 
field  and  over  the  stone  wall  that  bounded  it  and 
so  into  a  meadow  that  descended  gradually  to  a 
winding  fringe  of  woods  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
away.  Whether  the  woods  hid  the  river  he  didn't 
know.  It  didn't  seem  likely,  however,  for  he  had 
a  notion  that  the  stream  was  quite  a  considerable 
one :  in  fact,  it  must  be  if  the  railroad  was  build- 
ing a  large  and  expensive  bridge  across  it  some 
two  miles  further  inland! 

Before  he  reached  the  woods  he  had  thrice  been 
ankle-deep  in  water,  but  it  was  only  marsh  water 
and  the  trees,  he  found,  hid  only  a  narrow  and 
shallow  brook.  By  this  time  the  sun  was  really 
out,  although  not  very  brightly,  and  the  woods 
and  the  stream,  with  its  mossy  stones  and  bor- 
dering ferns,  looked  very  pretty.  He  wondered 
if  there  were  any  trout  there,  and  pursued  it  for 


THE  BOY  IN  THE  GREEN  SWEATEE     99 

some  little  distance  looking  for  likely  holes.  When 
he  had  satisfied  himself  that  no  respectable  trout 
would  deign  to  live  in  such  a  brook  he  made  his 
way  across  it  by  jumping  from  stone  to  stone, 
only  once  missing,  and  went  on  through  an  alder 
growth  on  the  other  side.  When  he  emerged  he 
was  at  the  foot  of  a  second  meadow  interspersed 
with  outcropping  ledges  and  clumps  of  white 
birches  and  maples  and  wild  cherry  trees.  Afar 
at  the  left,  near  where  the  road  presumably 
wound,  was  a  farm  with  a  white  dwelling  and  a 
red  barn  and  many  comical  haycocks  that  looked 
golden  in  the  sunlight.  Ahead  of  him  a  stone 
wall  crossed  the  summit  of  the  field,  pricked  out 
at  intervals  with  spindling  cedars  whose  somber 
foliage  stood  darkly  against  the  clearing  sky.  The 
September  sun,  freeing  itself  from  the  clouds, 
shone  warmly  in  Willard's  face  as  he  went  on  up 
the  rise.  When  he  reached  the  wall  he  saw  the 
river  below  him,  a  broad,  curving  ribbon  of  blue. 
But  it  was  a  good  half-mile  away  yet,  and  he  sat 
himself  on  the  wall  to  rest  before  going  on. 

The  sun  felt  pleasant  to  him  and,  after  he  had 
sat  there  a  few  minutes,  he  began  to  lose  interest 
in  a  nearer  acquaintance  with  the  river.  Instead 
of  going  on  in  that  direction,  he  decided,  he  would 
turn  to  the  left  and  try  to  reach  the  road.  Doubk 


100  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

less  Bob  and  Martin  and  the  others  would  be  re- 
turning before  very  long.  Turning  his  gaze 
southward,  he  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  alone.  Some  two  hundred  yards  away  a 
figure  was  approaching,  a  figure  which  appeared 
at  first  glance  to  be  that  of  a  man  wearing  a  dark 
green  sweater  and  advancing  up  the  slope  at  a 
strangely  deliberate  pace.  A  second  look,  how- 
ever, showed  that  the  person  was  a  boy  of  per- 
haps eighteen  years  and  that  as  he  walked  he  held 
the  end  of  a  forked  stick  in  each  hand  and  was 
oblivious  to  all  else.  He  was  a  tall  and  rather 
heavy  youth  with  extremely  long  legs  that  moved 
with  machine-like  precision  and  regularity  over 
the  grass.  His  slightly  bent  head  prevented  a 
clear  sight  of  his  face,  but  Willard  thought  he 
recognized  the  boy  as  one  he  had  glimpsed  once 
or  twice  about  school.  Why  he  should  be  pacing 
along  here  a  mile  from  home,  however,  a  Y- 
shaped  branch  in  his  hand,  was  a  mystery,  and 
Willard  watched  curiously  as  he  came  nearer  and 
nearer. 


CHAPTER  IX 

M'NATT  ON  SCIENCE 


THE  boy  in  the  green  sweater,  if  left  to  his  own 
devices,  would  have  passed  Willard  some  fifteen 
feet  away,  but  curiosity  got  the  better  of  the  lat- 
ter and  when  the  other  was  opposite  to  him  he 
spoke. 

1  'Hello,"  he  said. 

The  fellow  stopped,  turned  his  head  and  viewed 
the  boy  on  the  stone  wall,  quite  without  surprise, 
for  a  long  moment.  Then  he  shifted  his  gaze  to 
the  forked  stick  that  he  still  held  extended  before 
him  and  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"I  suppose  I  haven't  got  the  power,"  he  re- 
marked thoughtfully. 

"What  power?"  asked  Willard. 

"Why,  the  power,  or  whatever  you  like  to  call 
it,  to  make  this  thing  work.  Have  you  ever 
tried  it?" 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  doing,"  answered 
Willard,  getting  down  from  the  wall.  "What's 
the  branch  for?" 

"Haven't  you  ever  seen  a  water-finder!"  Wil- 

101 


102  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

lard  shook  his  head,  puzzled.  "Well,  you  take 
a  piece  of  witch-hazel  or  willow — some  say  alder 
or  ash  will  do — and  hold  it  like  this  by  the  top 
branches  and  walk  over  the  ground.  When  you 
come  to  a  place  where  there's  water  below,  the 
lower  end  there  will  tilt  downwards.  I've  seen 
it  done  twice." 

"Oh,  I've  heard  of  that,  but  I  never  saw  it 
tried,"  answered  Willard  interestedly.  "I  sup- 
posed it  was  just  nonsense.  Did  you  ever  see  it 
succeed?" 

The  other  nodded  soberly.  "Both  times.  Old 
Man  Hildreth,  back  home,  did  it  twice  one  time 
for  my  father,  and  when  we  dug  where  he  told  us 
to  we  came  to  water.  One  time  it  was  a  regular 
spring  that  we  found  and  the  other  time  it  was 
more  like  a  well.  I  mean  we  had  to  dig  pretty 
far  down  before  we  came  to  the  water.  Old  Man 
Hildreth  used  witch-hazel,  and  that's  what  I've 
got  here.  I  had  to  hunt  nearly  an  hour  before 
I  found  any." 

"Let's  see."  Willard  took  the  Y-shaped  piece 
and  looked  at  it  curiously.  There  was,  however, 
nothing  about  its  appearance  to  indicate  the 
power  attributed  to  it  by  the  boy  in  the  green 
sweater.  Willard  shrugged.  "I  guess  you've 
got  to  go  where  you  know  there's  water,"  he  said. 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  103 

"It  doesn't  look  to  me  as  if  there 'd  be  much  water 
on  top  of  this  hill." 

"You  mostly  find  springs  on  hillsides,"  replied 
the  other  mildly,  "and  that's  why  I've  been  look- 
ing around  here.  Maybe  I'm  too  high  up  now, 
though. ' ' 

Willard  seized  the  branches  as  he  had  seen  the 
other  hold  them  and  experimentally  walked  a  few 
steps  forward.  Nothing  happened.  For  that 
matter,  he  hadn't  expected  anything  would 
happen. 

"You  must  hold  them  tight,"  advised  the  other, 
"so  you'll  feel  the  influence." 

Willard  gripped  harder  and  circled  about  the 
green  sweater.  Once,  possibly  because  his  mus- 
cles were  so  tense,  he  thought  he  felt  a  tremor, 
but,  when  he  turned  and  went  back  over  the  spot, 
the  phenomenon  was  not  repeated.  "Look  here," 
he  asked,  "what  do  you  want  to  find  water  for, 
anyway?  There's  a  whole  river  just  full  of  it 
down  there." 

"I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  do  it,"  answered 
the  other. 

"Oh!"  Willard  looked  at  the  witch-hazel  wand 
in  his  hands  and  down  the  gently  sloping  meadow. 
"Let's  go  down  there  and  try  it,"  he  suggested 
finally. 


104  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Very  well."  Side  by  side,  Willard  still  hold- 
ing the  water-finder,  the  two  went  down  the  hill. 
Willard 's  countenance,  although  he  didn't  know 
it,  wore  an  expression  of  concentration  and  ex- 
pectancy. At  the  foot  of  the  hill  his  companion 
seated  himself  on  a  rock  and  Willard  began  a 
systematic  exploration  of  the  surrounding  ter- 
ritory. When  ten  minutes  or  so  had  passed  it 
dawned  on  him  that  he  was  extremely  warm  and 
that,  while  there  was  bound  to  be  water  under- 
ground, since  the  river  was  not  far  distant  and 
very  little  lower,  the  forked  stick  had  absolutely 
failed  to  register  even  a  tremor  of  interest!  He 
joined  the  youth  in  the  green  sweater  and  handed 
the  stick  to  him  in  disgust. 

"That's  no  good,"  he  said.  "Why,  I  could 
find  water  two  feet  from  here  if  I  had  a  shovel! 
That's  just  bunk!" 

"I  suppose  you  and  I  haven't  the  right  powers 
of  divination,"  replied  the  other  composedly. 
"I'll  try  again  some  day  with  a  piece  of  willow." 

Willard  said  "Humph!"  as  he  seated  himself 
on  the  rock,  and  a  minute's  silence  ensued.  Then: 
"I've  seen  you  at  school,  haven't  I?"  Willard 
asked. 

"I  presume  so.  My  name  is  McNatt,  and  I'm 
in  Upton.  What  is  your  class!" 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  105 

"Junior,"  replied  Willard.  "This  is  my  first 
year.  I  suppose  you  are  in  the  senior  class." 

McNatt  nodded.  "I've  been  here  four  years. 
This  is  my  fifth.  I  was  sick  my  sophomore  year 
•and  had  to  go  home  twice.  Once  I  was  away  two 
months  and  another  time  I  was  gone  five  weeks. 
That  put  me  behind  and  I  had  to  take  the  year 
over.  I  guess  I  could  have  made  it  up,  but  the 
doctor  wouldn't  allow  it.  I  don't  mind  at  all, 
though.  I  like  it  here.  The  only  thing  is  that 
the  fellows  I  came  along  with  have  gone  and  I 
don't  know  many  now.  But  then  I  never  was 
much  for  making  acquaintances." 

Willard  viewed  him  curiously.  McNatt  was 
perhaps  nearly  nineteen,  he  thought.  His  head 
was  large  and  his  features  prominent:  a  very 
beak-like  nose  extended  well  over  a  wide  mouth, 
his  rather  pale  eyes,  which  might  have  been  either 
green  or  blue  for  all  Willard  could  determine, 
were  deepset  under  heavy  brows  and  his  chin  jut- 
ted out  almost  aggressively.  But  in  spite  of  his 
features  McNatt  did  not  impress  Willard  as  be- 
ing a  forceful  youth,  nor  did  his  expression,  voice 
or  manners  suggest  it.  He  had  a  pleasant,  deep 
voice  and  spoke  slowly,  almost  hesitantly,  and, 
while  he  didn't  smile  frequently,  his  countenance 
Bespoke  good  humor.  He  had  very  dark-browii 


1CF6  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

hair,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  it,  and  it  was 
perceptibly  wavy  under  the  rim  of  his  straw  hat. 
The  straw  hat,  like  the  rest  of  his  attire,  had  seen 
better  days.  In  fact,  McNatt's  trousers,  of  blue 
serge  that  had  changed  to  plum-color  on  the 
knees,  would  not  have  greatly  interested  an  old 
clothes  man !  The  garment  that  clothed  the  upper 
part  of  his  body  was  equally  disreputable,  a  dark- 
green  coat-sweater  with  many  darns  and  one 
pocket  that  was  trying  hard  to  get  away.  The 
shoes  alone  appeared  to  be  of  recent  origin,  but 
as  they  were  caked  with  mud  along  the  soles  the 
fact  would  have  escaped  casual  observation. 

"What  made  you  think  of  this  stunt?"  asked 
Willard,  nodding  at  the  witch-hazel  stick. 

McNatt's  countenance  expressed  faint  surprise. 
"Why,  I've  always  been  very  interested  in  scien- 
tific matters,"  he  replied  gravely. 

"Oh,"  said  Willard,  "do  you  call  that  science?" 

"I'm  not  sure,"  answered  the  other  slowly. 
"The  diving-rod,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  has 
been  in  use  a  great  many  years  both  for  the  dis«; 
<jovery  of  water  and  metals.  Taking  science  in 
its  broader  sense  of  truth  ascertained  and  sys- 
tematized, almost  anything  not  capable  of  classi- 
fication as  an  art  may  well  be  termed  a  science. 
While  the  affinity  existing  between  the  diving-rod 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  107 

and  water  or  metals  underground  may  be  viewed 
as  a  phenomenon,  yet  when  we  make  use  of  that 
affinity  to  produce  systematic  results  we  enter  the 
realm  of  science." 

Willard  blinked.  "I — I  suppose  so,"  he  agreed 
vaguely.  "Can  you  find  gold  that  way,  too!" 

"It  has  been  done,  I  think,"  said  McNatt.  "I 
haven't  been  able  to  find  much  data  on  that  sub- 
ject, though." 

Willard  looked  more  respectfully  at  the  witch- 
hazel  switch.  "I  guess  it  wouldn't  be  much  use 
looking  for  gold  around  here,  though,"  he  said. 
g  'How  would  you  know  whether  you  had  found 
gold  or  water  if  the  thing  dipped?" 

McNatt  considered  in  silence  a  moment.  Then 
he  shook  his  head.  "I  can't  say,"  he  replied. 
"Perhaps  you  couldn't  tell.  Though,  as  gold  is 
generally  located  away  from  water  you  would 
hardly  expect  that  the  diving-rod  was  indicating 
anything  but  gold." 

"Isn't  gold  sometimes  found  in  the  beds  of 
rivers  and  streams?"  asked  Willard.  "Seems  to 
me  your  diving-rod  would  get  sort  of  mixed, 
woulc^i't  it?  And  how  about  silver?  Can  you 
find  silver  that  way,  too?" 

McNatt  looked  almost  distressed.  "As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,"  he  said,  "I  haven't  devoted  any. 


108  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

study  to  the  use  of  the  diving-rod  in  the  location 
of  metals.  Your  questions  open  up  an  interest- 
ing field,  though,  and  some  time  I'll  go  into  the 
subject  thoroughly.  And  still,  as  I  haven't  yet 
demonstrated  the — ah — power  of  the  instrument 
in  the  finding  of  water,  possibly  it  would  be  idle 
to  extend  the  experiments.  There's  one  possible 
explanation  of  failure  that  just  occurs  to  me.  Old 
Man  Hildreth  said  he  used  a  hazel  stick.  He 
didn't  say  whether  it  was  the  hazel  of  the  nut 
tribe—" 

"I  think  it  must  have  been,"  said  Willard  em- 
phatically. 

"Or  the  witch-hazel.  The  ordinary  hazel  is  a 
member  of  the  oak  family,  but  does  the  witch-- 
hazel  belong  to  the  same  family?  There  are  cer- 
tain similarities  between  the  two,  and  yet  they 
may  not  be  botanically  related."  McNatt  pre- 
sented a  puzzled  countenance  to  Willard.  "What 
would  be  your  opinion?" 

"Search  me,"  said  Willard  cheerfully.  "I 
thought  a  hazel  was  a  hazel." 

"I'm  afraid  not.  That  may  account  for  my; 
lack  of  success.  You  see,  I  jumped  to  the  conclu-- 
sion  that  the  witch-hazel  was  the  proper  one, 
probably  because  the  word  'witch'  suggested — ah 
— divination.  So  I  may  have  been  wrong."  Me- 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  109 

Natt's  face  cleared  and  he  looked  quite  cheerful 
again.  "I'll  have  to  try  again.  Only — "  He 
paused  and  pursed  his  lips  dubiously.  "Do  you 
happen  to  know  if  the  hazel  grows  about 
here?" 

"Haven't  the  slightest  idea,"  said  Willard. 

"Nor  I.  I'll  have  to  look  that  up  when  I  get 
back.  It's  strange  that  the  encyclopedias  give  so 
little  information  on  the  subject  of  the  diving-rod 
I  wonder — "  McNatt  fell  silent,  and  after  a  mniv 
ute  Willard  arose. 

"Well,  I  guess  I'll  be  getting  back,"  he  an- 
nounced. It  was,  he  concluded,  too  late  to  meet 
.Martin  and  the  others  now. 

"Back?"  repeated  McNatt,  coming  out  of  his 
trance.  "Yes,  that's  so.  It  must  be — "  He 
searched  under  the  edge  of  his  sweater  for  some- 
thing evidently  not  there.  "Have  you  a  watch? 
I  seem  to  have  forgotten  mine." 

"Twenty  to  five,"  said  Willard. 

"Then  we'd  better  start."  McNatt  gazed 
thoughtfully,  almost  sorrowfully  at  his  witch- 
hazel  stick  and  laid  it  gently  on  the  rock.  "I  may 
try  that  again  some  time,  but  I  rather  think  I  was 
mistaken;  I  rather  think  it  should  have  been  the 
corylus  americana." 
,  "Something  nutty  sounds  more  likely,"  said 


110  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

Willard  gravely.  To  his  surprise,  the  otheB 
chuckled. 

"That  hadn't  occurred  to  me,"  he  replied* 
"You  see,  some  of  the  fellows  call  me  McNutt* 
By  the  way,  what's  your  name?" 

Willard  told  him  and  McNatt  nodded.  "Har- 
mon: the  name's  familiar.  I  remember  now. 
There  is  a  fellow  of  that  name  who  plays 
football.  Quite  a  remarkable  full-back,  I 
think." 

"Gordon  Harmon?    Did  you  know  him!" 

"I  read  about  him.  He  played  on  one  of  the 
high  school  teams  in  New  York  City,  I  believe, 
Is  he  a  relation  of  yours  ? ' ' 

"Brother." 

"Keally?"  McNatt  turned  and  viewed  Willard 
with  real  interest.  "Well!  Think  of  that!  I 
dare  say  you're  sort  of  proud  of  him." 

"I  suppose  so,"  replied  Willard  doubtfully. 
"I  don't  think  I  ever  thought  whether  I  am  or 
not,"  he  added,  laughing. 

"You  should  be  if  what  they  say  of  him  is 
true,"  said  McNatt  earnestly.  "I  followed  his 
work  last  season  with  much  interest.  A  natural^ 
born  full-back,  I'd  call  him.  By  the  way,  do  you 
play,  too?" 

"A  little,    I'm  out  for  the  team" 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  111 

"Full-back?  But  no,  you'd  be  too  light.  End, 
maybe!" 

"Half,"  said  Willard.  "I've  played  there 
some." 

"Hm."  McNatt  looked  him  over  critically. 
"Yes,  you  might  do  well  there.  You  look  fast. 
Ten  pounds  more  wouldn't  hurt  you,  though." 

"You  talk  like  a  football  chap  yourself,"  said 
[Willard.  "Do  you  play?" 

McNatt  shook  his  head.  "I  used  to,  but  I  got 
* — ah — out  of  sympathy  with  it.  You  see,  Har- 
mon, football  is  capable  of  being  reduced  to  an 
exact  science,  but  played  in  the  haphazard  man- 
ner that  they  play  it  here  it  lacks  interest.  I 
haven't  played  recently." 

"Well,  I  don't  see  how  you  can  reduce  it  to  any 
exact  science,"  Willard  objected.  "Of  course,  if 
you  knew  beforehand  what  the  other  fellow  was 
going  to  do — " 

"You  miss  my  meaning,"  interrupted  the 
older  boy.  "See  here,  Harmon.  You  start  with 
a  playing  space  so  many  yards  in  length  and  so 
many  yards  in  width.  You  oppose  a  team  of 
eleven  players  with  a  team  of  a  like  number.  You 
may  do  a  certain  number  of  things  legitimately. 
Each  situation  developed  in  the  course  of  a  foot- 
ball game  calls  for  a  certain  move.  But  that's 


112  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

what  coaches  and  quarter-backs  don't  realize. 
They  think  that  a  situation  is  unprecedented  and, 
instead  of  making  the  move  that  is  called  for, 
they  confusedly  try  something  they  shouldn't,  3k 
play  never  intended  for  the  situation." 

"But  how  the  dickens  are  you  going  to  know 
what  play  the  situation  does  call  for?"  demanded 
Willard.  "The  situations  make  themselves,  and 
they're  all  different!" 

"Not  at  all.  There  are  only  a  certain  number 
of  situations  that  can  eventuate  and  they  are 
quite  capable  of  tabulation.  For  the  purpose  of 
argument,  suppose  we  set  the  number  at  three 
hundred.  Very  well,  there  are  consequently  three 
hundred  correct  moves.  Suppose  it  is  A's  ball 
on  B's  twenty-yard-line  on  third  down  with  five 
to  go,  B  has  demonstrated  that  gains  between  her 
tackles  are  practically  impossible.  A  is  weak  at 
kicking  field-goals,  but  has  proved  capable  of 
gaining  on  runs  outside  B's  right  tackle.  B  has 
a  good  defense  against  forward-passes  and  has 
defeated  A's  attempts  to  gain  that  way.  Now, 
then,  what  is  A's  correct  play?" 

"Why,  a  skin-tackle  play,  of  course,  at  the  weak 
end,"  replied  Willard.  "At  least,  theoretically. 
But  suppose  the  back  who  carries  the  ball  slips  05 
turns  in  too  soon  or — " 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  113 

"No  science,  no  matter  how  exact,  is  proof 
against  the  fallibility  of  those  engaged  in  its  dem- 
onstration," said  McNatt  gravely.  ''The  point' 
I  am  trying  to  prove  is  that  here  is  a  situation 
that  is  neither  unprecedented  nor  novel  and  that,, 
capable  of  being  recognized,  has  its  proper  solu-; 
tion  which  may  be  scientifically  applied." 

"Maybe,"  said  Willard,  "but,  gee,  how  many, 
situations  would  there  be  to  recognize?  About  a 
thousand,  I'd  say!" 

"Many  less,  I  think.  I've  never  attempted  to 
tabulate  them,  but  it  would  not  be  a  difficult  task* 
Science  has  performed  far  more  difficult  feats." 

"I  dare  say,  but — but — look  here,  McNatt,  if 
each  team  played  football  like  that,  I  mean  if  eacK 
team  had  the  right  answer  to  every  situation  that 
might  happen,  why,  gee,  neither  one  would  win!" 

"You're  wrong,  Harmon.  You're  forgetting 
the  element  of  human  fallibility.  Put  two  chess 
players  at  the  board,  give  them  each  a  similar 
knowledge  of  the  game,  and  what  happens?  Do 
they  play  to  a  tie?  Very  seldom.  One  wins  and 
the  other  loses.  So  it  would  be  in  football  with 
each  team  applying  science.  One  team  would  ex- 
cel because  she  applied  it  more  exactly,  perhaps 
more  instantly." 

Willard  shook  his  heed.    "It  sounds  crazy  tfli 


114  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

me,"  he  said.  ''And  I  don't  think  I'd  want  to 
play  if  everything  was  cut-and-dried  like  that. 
Hang  it,  McNatt,  it's  accident  and  chance  that 
makes  the  game  interesting." 

"I  don't  agree  with  you.  I  think  those  things 
retard  the  development  of  it,  Harmon.  As  it  is 
now,  individual  skill  rules.  Why,  look  here.  Sup- 
pose armies  fought  that  way.  Suppose  a  field 
general  said  to  his  subordinates:  'I  don't  know 
how  to  meet  this  situation.  You  fellows  see  what 
you  can  do.  Maybe  we  can  push  back  his  left 
wing  or  maybe  we  can  punch  a  hole  in  his  center, 
do  something,  but  don't  bother  me!'  " 

Willard  laughed.  "That's  not  a  fair  compar- 
ison, though,  McNatt,"  he  answered.  "At  least, 
in  football,  the  coach  or  the  quarter-back  has  a 
plan  and  carries  it  out,  even  if  it  isn't  the  right 
one ! ' ' 

"A  wrong  plan  is  no  better  than  no  plan.  Hap- 
hazard football  is  just  as  silly  as  haphazard  war 
would  be,  Harmon.  Fellows  who  teach  football 
talk  about  the  science  of  it,  but  they  don't  study 
it.  Their  science  begins  and  ends  with  finding 
out  the  other  fellow's  weak  spot  and  attacking  it." 

"Sounds  like  pretty  good  science  to  me,"  said 
[Willard. 

"It  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it's  only  the 


McNATT  ON  SCIENCE  115 

t 

• 

beginning.  Well,  here's  my  way.  I'm  glad  to 
have  met  you,  Harmon.  I'd  be  glad  to  continue 
the  subject  sometime  if  you  care  to  visit  me.  I'm 
in  Number  49.  I've  got  some  things  that  might 
interest  you,  too ;  rather  a  good  collection  of  min- 
erals gathered  around  here,  for  one  thing :  nearly 
two  hundred  specimens." 

" Thanks,  I'll  look  you  up  some  time,"  said 
Willard,  "but  I  guess  I've  had  enough  of  that 
argument.  It's  too  deep  for  me,  McNatt!  So 
long. ' ' 

Willard  turned  toward  Haylow  and,  when  he 
had  gone  a  little  way,  looked  back.  McNatt  had 
stopped  near  Lawrence  Hall  and  was  staring  up 
into  the  sky.  All  Willard  could  see  there  was  a 
streaky  white  cloud.  He  shook  his  head  as  he 
went  on  again.  "  'McNutt'  is  right,  I  guess," 
he  muttered. 


CHAPTER  X 

ALTON    SQUEEZES   THROUGH 

INSTEAD  of  going  on  to  Haylow,  Willard  entered 
Lykes  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  Number  2.  As 
he  had  suspected,  Martin  was  there.  So  were 
Bob  and  Joe  and  Don  Harris,  Joe's  roommate. 
Don  was  only  seventeen,  although  his  size  made 
him  look  older,  and,  like  Joe,  was  a  senior.  His 
full  name  was  Donald,  but  no  one  ever  called  him 
that.  He  played  first  base  on  the  school  nine  and 
played  it  well. 

Willard  had  to  hear  about  the  expedition  to 
the  new  railway  bridge  and  how  Stacey  and  Bob 
had  walked  out  to  the  end  of  the  highest  girder 
and  then  had  had  to  sit  down  before  they  -dared 
turn  around! 

"  That's  all  right,"  Don  expostulated  in 
reply  to  the  laughter.  "That  girder  was  only  a 
foot  wide  when  I  started  out  on  it  and  by  the  time 
I  was  at  the  end  it  had  shrunk  to  about  half  an 
inch!  And  when  I  looked  down  the  river  was  so 
far  away  I  could  just  see  it !  Gosh,  I  thought  for 

116 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH       117 

i 

a  minute  I'd  have  to  stay  there  until  they'd  fin- 
ished the  bridge  so  I  could  keep  on  across  it!" 

"I  wanted  to  come  back  on  my  hands  and 
knees,"  confessed  Bob,  "and  I'd  have  done  it  if 
I'd  been  alone!  No  more  circus  stunts  for  little 
Robert!" 

"What  were  you  doing  all  the  afternoon?" 
asked  Martin  presently  of  Willard,  and  Willard 
told  of  his  meeting  with  McNatt.  The  incident  of 
the  diving-rod  amused  them  all  hugely. 

"That's  McNutt  all  over,"  laughed  Joe.  "A 
couple  of  years  ago  someone  found  him  over  on 
that  hill  beyond  Badger's  farm  digging  a  hole, 
lie  said  he  was  looking  for  fossil  remains.  Said 
the  hill  looked  to  him  like  a  glacial — glacial  whafe 
voucall  it — " 

"Moraine,"  supplied  Bob. 

"Yes,  moraine.  He  dug  a  place  big  enough  for 
a  cellar,  I  heard,  but  he  never  found  anything  but 
rocks.  He's  a  wonder,  is  Felix  McNatt!" 

"Is  his  name  really  Felix  t"  asked  Martin. 

"Sure!  And  he's  got  a  middle  name  that's 
worse,  only  I've  forgotten  it." 

"Felix  Adelbert,"  said  Don:  "Felix  Adelbert 
McNutt— I  mean  McNatt!" 

" McNutt 's  better,"  laughed  Bob.  "It  suits 
him  perfectly.  Remember  the  time — last  spring, 


118  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

wasn't  it? — when  he  was  raising  toads  and  one  o£ 
them  got  into  bed  with  the  chap  who  rooms  with 
him—" 

" Rooms  with  the  toad?"  asked  Martin  incred- 
ulously. 

"No,  with  McNutt,  you  jay!  What's  his  name, 
!Joe?" 

11  McNutt 's?"  asked  Joe,  with  a  wink  at  Martin. 

"Oh,  you  make  me  tired!  Fuller,  that's  the 
chap!  Fuller  crawled  into  bed  one  night  and 
found  a  toad  there  ahead  of  him  and  told  the  hall 
master  the  next  day.  He  said  he  didn't  mind  hav- 
ing toads  hopping  around  the  room,  but  that  hav- 
ing to  share  his  bed  with  them  was  almost  too 
much.  And  faculty  agreed  with  him  and  McNutt 
had  to  get  rid  of  his  toads." 

"What  the  dickens  did  he  want  with  the  things, 
anyway?"  asked  Don  in  disgust.  "I  wouldn't 
touch  one  for  anything!" 

"Oh,  toads  are  all  right,"  answered  Joe. 
"Quite  harmless  and  friendly.  McNutt  was  rais- 
ing them,  it  seemed.  He'd  read  somewhere  that 
an  able-bodied  toad  would  eat  seven  million,  three 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand,  nine  hundred  and 
thirty- three  bugs  a  year.  I'm  not  absolutely  cer- 
tain of  the  exact  number,  but  it  was  something 
like  that.  Anyway,  McNutt  figured  that  if  he 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH       119 

i 
could  raise  a  few  hundred  toads  he  could  sell  them 

to  farmers  and  get  rich.  He  said  he  was  trying 
to  develop  an  improved  strain  of  toads  that  would 
be  particularly — er — insectivorous:  I  believe 
that's  the  word." 

"In  justice  to  the  gentleman,"  said  Bob,  "it 
should  be  stated  that  it  was  the — the  scientific 
interest  of  the  thing  rather  than  the  pecuniary 
reward  that  attracted  him.  Science  is  McNutt's 
long  suit!" 

"I  think  Fuller,  or  whatever  his  name  is,  was 
most  unreasonable,"  laughed  Don.  "Why,  the 
world  might  be  rid  of  insects  by  this  time  if  he 
hadn't  been  so  cranky!  Do  toads  eat  mosquitoes, 
Joe?" 

"I  guess  so.  I  know  they  eat  flies,  anyway.  I 
saw  one  do  it  once.  He  stopped  about  a  yard 
away  and  the  fly  didn't  even  know  he  was  about. 
Then — zip — out  went  Mr.  Toad's  tongue,  like  you 
uncoiled  the  mainspring  of  a  watch,  and  the  fly 
was  gone!" 

•'Flew  away,  probably,"  suggested  Martin. 

"He  did  not,  son!  He  was  in  Mr.  Toad's 
tummy." 

"You  say  the  toad  was  a  yard  distant  from  the 
fly  when  the — when  the  shot  was  fired?"  asked 
Don. 


120  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Well,  maybe  a  couple  of  feet,"  Joe  oompro. 
mised.  "It  was  a  long  way." 

"Take  off  another  eighteen  inches,"  begged 
Bob  earnestly.  "I  want  to  believe  you,  Joseph 
but  two  feet — "  He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"Go  to  the  dickens!  It  was  two  feet  if  it  was 
an  inch.  Anyone  will  tell  you  that  a  toad's  tongue 
is  remarkably  long." 

"Nobody  has  to  tell  me,  after  that  yarn,"  re* 
plied  Bob  gravely.  "All  I'm  wondering  now  is 
where  the  toad  keeps  his  tongue  when  he's  not 
using  it!" 

"I  told  you  he  coils  it  up,"  laughed  Joe,  "like 
a  watch  spring." 

"It's  a  mighty  good  thing  toads  can't  talk," 
observed  Willard.  "With  a  tongue  like  that, 
they'd  never  stop !  McNatt  asked  me  to  come  and 
see  him.  He  said  he  had  a  fine  collection  of  min- 
erals in  his  room." 

"Minerals?  Boy,  he's  got  enough  rocks  there 
to  build  a  house !  And  bird  nests  and  butterflies 
and  beetles  and — and  things  in  jars  that  make  you 
shudder  to  look  at  'em!"  Joe  shuddered  merely 
at  the  memory.  "He's  always  trying  to  hatch 
out  moths  and  things  in  cigar  boxes.  Once  he  had 
some  silk-worms,  I  remember.  Mr.  Screven  got 
him  to  bring  them  to  class  one  day.  Funny 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH       121 

things,  they  were.  They  didn't  live  very  long,  be- 
cause McNutt  couldn't  get  the  right  sort  of  leaves 
for  them  to  eat.  They  should  have  had  mulberry 
leaves,  I  think,  and  he  thought  some  other  sort 
ought  to  do  just  as  well,  and  the  worms  got  mad 
and  went  on  a  hunger  strike!  Fuller  told  me 
once  that  the  room  is  so  full  of  rubbish  that  he 
can't  turn  around.  Said  he  was  forever  finding 
a  family  of  white  mice  or  striped  lizards  tucked 
away  in  one  of  his  bureau  drawers  and  that  he 
always  had  to  look  before  he  sat  down  for  fear 
of  sitting  on  something  he  shouldn't!" 

When  the  laughter  had  subsided  Willard  told 
of  McNatt's  theory  regarding  scientific  football. 
He  found  that,  as  he  told  it,  it  didn't  sound  as 
plausible  as  it  had  when  McNatt  explained  it,  but 
it  certainly  aroused  amusement.  Joe  drew  a  pic- 
ture of  Gil  Tarver  pulling  out  a  memorandum 
book  and  looking-  up  the  right  play.  "Because, 
you  see,  not  even  Gil  could  ever  remember  two 
hundred — was  it  two  hundred,  Brand? — three 
hundred  plays.  Probably  they'd  make  a  rule  that 
a  quarter-back  must  find  his  plays  unassisted  and 
must  not  consume  more  than  three  minutes  look- 
ing them  up !  Gil  would  have  a  pocket  built  on 
his  jacket  to  keep  the  book  in,  I  suppose." 

"Gosh,  suppose  it  dropped  out!"  exclaimed 


122  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Don.  "Would  he  be  allowed  time-out  to  look 
for  it!" 

"  Probably  a  center  would  be  picked  for  his 
light-finger  ability,"  suggested  Bob.  "It  would 
be  part  of  his  stunt  to  reach  through  or  around 
the  opposing  center  and  steal  the  quarter-back's 
memorandum  book,  thus  placing  the  enemy  hors 
de  combat!" 

"Come  on,  Brand,"  begged  Martin.  "This  is 
getting  wild." 

"Did  McNatt  ever  play  football?"  asked  Don, 

"I  think  so,"  Joe  answered.  "Yes,  I  know  he 
did.  He  was  out  for  the  team  the  first  year  I  was 
here.  You  remember  him,  Bob?" 

Bob  shook  his  head.  "No,  but  I've  heard  that 
he  did  play." 

"Yes,  and  I  think  he  played  the  year  before 
that.  Something  happened  to  him,  though,  my 
freshman  year.  I  guess  he  had  an  accident  or 
got  sick.  I  know  he  wasn't  around  long.  Seems 
to  me  he  was  trying  for  half-back.  He 's  not  a  bad 
old  scout,  Felix  Adelbert.  Only  trouble  is,  I 
guess,  his  brains  are  sort  of  scrambled." 

"Addled,  maybe,"  suggested  Martin.  "Addle- 
bert  MeNutt.  Come  on,  Brand,  I'm  getting  it 
too!" 

"I  think  I'll  accept  his  invitation  some  day," 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH        123 

laid  Willard,  as  they  crossed  to  Haylow.  "I'd 
Uke  to  see  that  room  of  his!" 

The  occasion  didn't  present  itself  that  week, 
however,  for  Willard  found  that  life  on  the  foot- 
ball gridiron  had  suddenly  become  both  real  and 
earnest.  Although  Coach  Cade  had  four  good 
half-backs  at  his  command,  Willard  was  not  over- 
looked. But  Friday  he  was  on  an  equal  footing 
with  Mawson  and  Moncks,  to  all  appearances,  and 
was  certainly  in  line  for  first  substitute.  He 
didn't  want  anything  serious  or  painful  to  hap- 
pen to  either  of  those  excellent  chaps,  but  he 
couldn't  help  reflecting  sometimes  that  if  one  or 
the  other  was  to  develop  something  mild,  like 
whooping  cough  or  German  measles,  he  could  bear 
it  with  equanimity!  Failing  the  likelihood  of 
anything  of  the  kind  happening,  however,  he  set 
himself  earnestly  to  outdo  those  rivals  in  prac- 
tice. After  all,  while  Mawson  was  rather  a  better 
punter  and  Moncks  was  shiftier  in  a  broken  field, 
neither  was  unbeatable,  and  Willard  kept  that 
fact  resolutely  in  mind  and  worked  hard. 

Banning  High  School  came  on  Saturday  and 
put  up  a  very  pretty  game  against  the  Gray-and- 
Gold.  In  fact,  Banning  sprang  several  surprises 
on  the  home  team,  and  for  a  time,  during  the  first 
of  the  contest,  it  looked  as  though  Alton  was  in 


124  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

for  a  defeat.  Banning  was  light  but  fast,  and  in- 
stead of  relying  on  a  forward-passing  game  as 
she  was  expected  to  rely,  she  met  Alton's  own 
tactics  and,  from  a  close,  three-abreast  forma- 
tion, shot  her  backs  through  the  opposing  line 
with  discouraging  ease.  Any  place  outside  guards 
pleased  her,  and  Alton  saw  her  tackles  and  ends 
completely  outplayed  during  the  first  two  periods. 
Banning 's  speed  was  the  secret  of  her  success, 
and  the  Gray-and-Gold,  heavier  and  slower,  sel- 
dom stopped  the  plays  until  they  were  well 
through  her  line. 

Banning  scored  first  when,  near  the  end  of  the 
second  quarter,  she  recovered  a  short  kick  on 
Alton's  forty-six  and  plunged  and  knifed  her  way 
down  to  the  thirty-one.  Fast,  snappy  playing 
took  the  ball  there  in  just  seven  downs.  Mr.  Cade 
ran  in  a  substitute  left  end  and  a  substitute  left 
tackle  then,  and  Banning  slowed  up.  But  she 
reached  the  twenty-five-yard  line  before  she  was 
halted.  There,  it  being  fourth  down,  with  four 
to  go,  she  made  elaborate  preparations  for  a 
placement  kick.  Naturally  enough,  while  guard- 
ing against  a  fake,  Alton  expected  a  kick,  and 
team  and  spectators  were  alike  surprised  when, 
the  ball  having  flown  back  to  quarter  and  the 
kicker  having  swung  his  long  leg,  there  followed 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH       125 

a  long  side-pass  from  the  quarter  to  an  end,  just 
as  Alton  charged !  It  looked  to  those  on  the  side- 
lines as  if  the  pigskin  went  between  the  legs  of 
the  Alton  end  and  tackle  as  they  swept  around, 
but  probably  it  didn't.  In  any  event,  the  wait- 
ing Banning  end  caught  it  neatly  and  had  covered 
ten  yards  of  the  intervening  thirty  before  he  was 
challenged.  He  shot  around  the  Alton  left  half 
and  was  only  brought  down  when  Gil  Tarver 
tackled  on  the  eight  yards. 

The  line-up  was  squarely  on  the  five,  and  al- 
though the  Gray-and-Gold  fought  desperately 
there,  it  took  the  enemy  just  three  plays  to  put 
the  ball  over.  A  plunge  at  the  center,  with  the 
whole  Banning  backfield  behind  the  quarter,  who 
carried,  yielded  most  of  two  yards.  Then  the 
full-back  ripped  around  left  tackle  for  as  much 
more,  and,  on  third  down,  with  the  other  backs 
running  to  the  right,  that  troublesome  Banning 
quarter  shot  through  between  guard  and  tackle 
on  the  left  and  put  the  pigskin  just  over  the  last 
white  streak! 

The  half  ended  with  the  score  6 — 0  in  the  vis- 
itor's favor,  and  the  home  team  came  in  for  a 
"panning"  from  the  stands  that,  deserved  or  not, 
was  decidedly  enthusiastic.  However,  the  team 
was  not  suffering  for  lack  of  criticism  just  then, 


126  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

even  if  it  couldn't  hear  what  the  spectators  were 
saying.  Coach  Cade,  although  mild-mannered, 
had  a  fair  command  of  language  and  could  use  it 
when  needs  be,  and  the  players  listened  to  some 
home  truths  during  the  half-time. 

When  the  team  came  back  to  the  field  it  was 
noted  that  Moncks  had  replaced  Cochran  at  right 
half,  Hutchins  had  taken  Tarver's  place  at  quar- 
ter and  a  third-string  fellow  was  playing  left 
tackle.  Perhaps,  though,  it  was  the  talk  they  had 
listened  to  rather  than  the  change  in  the  line-up 
that  produced  results,  for  certainly  " Hutch" 
played  no  better  game  behind  center  than  Gil  had, 
and  the  new  tackle  was  far  too  green  to  be  of 
much  use.  That  as  may  be,  Alton  showed  speed 
from  the  start  and  Banning 's  backs  were  stopped 
at  the  line  instead  of  beyond  it.  Also,  the  Gray- 
and-Gold  took  the  offensive  when  the  third  quar- 
ter was  a  few  minutes  along  and  kept  it  through- 
out the  rest  of  the  game,  with  the  result  that  the 
score  was  tied  in  the  third  period,  when  Moncks 
got  away  for  a  thirty-yard  run  and  a  touchdown, 
and  untied  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  quarter, 
when  Alton  hammered  her  way  from  well  within 
her  own  territory  to  Banning 's  eight  yards  and 
then  tossed  the  ball  over  to  Macon  between  the 
goal  posts.  Oddly  enough,  when  Lake  kicked  an 


ALTON  SQUEEZES  THROUGH       127 

easy  goal  after  the  second  touchdown,  the  score 
became  13 — 6,  which  was  the  score  of  last  week's 
contest,  and  13—6  it  remained.  Martin  said  he 
guessed  thirteen-six  was  a  habit,  but  when  Mt. 
Millard  School  got  through  with  Alton,  seven 
days  later,  he  changed  his  mind! 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   FIRST   DEFEAT 

October  was  a  week  old  Willard  had  be- 
come as  much  a  part  and  parcel  of  Alton  Academy 
as  if  he  had  spent  a  year  there  instead  of  a  scant 
three  weeks.  For  a  time  he  had  wondered  whether 
he  had  made  a  mistake  in  substituting  it  for  Kenly 
Hall,  but  as  he  became  more  and  more  at  home 
that  speculation  ceased  to  trouble  him.  Even  if 
he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  had  known  it,  the 
bewildered  letter  he  had  received  from  his  mother 
would  have  reconciled  him  to  the  fact.  That  let- 
ter had  amused  him  for  days.  For  the  joke  of  it, 
he  had  carefully  abstained  from  explanations  and 
had  merely  written:  "Here  I  am  at  Alton  Acad- 
emy, everything  unpacked  and  quite  settled.  I 
think  I  am  going  to  like  it  immensely."  Of 
course  there  had  been  much  more,  but  he  had 
described  the  school  in  such  a  matter-of-fact  way 
that  his  mother  and  father,  on  reading  the  letter, 
had  almost  doubted  their  memories. 

"Your  father,"   wrote   Mrs.   Harmon,   "says 
that  we  may  have  misunderstood,  but  I  am  very, 

128 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  129 

very  certain  you  meant  to  go  to  Kenly  School. 
You  talked  about  it  so  frequently  that  I'm  sure 
I  couldn't  be  mistaken.  Kenly  School  is  at  Lake- 
ville,  for  I've  looked  it  up  in  a  magazine,  and 
your  letter  was  posted  at  Alton,  and  your  father 
says  the  two  places  are  fully  ten  miles  apart.  I 
do  hope  everything  is  all  right,  but  I  simply  can't 
understand  why  you  didn't  explain  more  fully  in 
your  letter.  Do  let  me  hear  from  you  right  away, 
dear,  and  tell  me  just  what  happened." 

Of  course  Willard  had  answered  the  appeal 
promptly  and  explained  fully,  emphasizing  the 
real  or  imaginary  advantages  of  Alton  over 
Kenly,  and  had  received  a  second  letter  from  home 
that  was  not  nearly  so  sympathetic  as  it  might 
have  been.  It  was  his  father  who  wrote  this  time, 
and  Mr.  Harmon  dwelt,  at  what  "Willard  thought 
was  undue  length,  on  the  latter 's  Lamentable  Lack 
of  Serious  Purpose,  pointing  out  that  attaining 
an  education  was  not  a  pursuit  to  be  governed  by 
levity.  That  epistle  had  the  effect  of  making 
Willard  rather  more  devoted  to  his  studies  for 
awhile  at  least  and  so  was  not  written  in  vain. 

His  studies,  though,  promised  to  cause  him 
scant  worry,  for  he  had  come  well  prepared  for 
the  Alton  junior  year.  Greek,  which  he  had 
elected  to  make  up  the  required  number  of  hours, 


130  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

was  new  to  him  and  so  presented  some  difficulties, 
"but  lie  was  consoled  with  the  knowledge  that  by 
taking  the  course  this  year  he  could,  if  he  wished, 
'drop  it  the  last  half  of  his  senior  year.  Martin, 
who  had  left  Greek  severely  alone,  his  motto 
being  "Don't  Look  for  Trouble,"  told  Willard 
that  he  was  a  chump  and  dwelt  at  length  on  the 
merits  of  Science  4  as  a  * '  snap  course. ' '  To  which 
^Willard  virtuously  replied  that  he  was  attending 
the  Academy  to  acquire  an  education  and  not  to 
spend  his  time  in  slothfulness.  Whereupon  Mar- 
tin upset  him  onto  the  bed,  placed  a  pillow  over 
his  head  and  sat  on  it. 

About  this  time  Martin  was  making  Bob  New- 
hall's  life  a  burden  to  him  by  solicitous  inquiries 
regarding  his  health.  Martin  had  a  way  of  ob- 
serving Bob  anxiously  and  attempting  to  feel  his 
pulse  that  the  latter  found  very  trying.  Of  course 
Bob  could  refuse  to  have  his  heart  action  inves- 
tigated, and  could — and  did — decline  to  put  out 
Ms  tongue  for  Martin  to  inspect,  but  he  couldn't 
prevent  Martin  from  eyeing  him  narrowly  on  all 
occasions  and  shaking  his  head  sorrowfully  over 
what  he  pretended  to  believe  were  the  ravages  of 
'disease.  "I  don't  like  those  deep  circles  under 
your  eyes,  Bob,"  Martin  would  say  gravely. 
"Sleep  pretty  well,  do  you?" 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  131 

"About  nine  hours,  thanks,"  Bob  would  reply 
shortly. 

"I  was  afraid  of  that!  That's  one  of  the  un- 
mistakable symptoms.  Feel  tired  in  the  morn- 
ing? Sort  of  worried  and  oppressed  without 
knowing  why?" 

"Not  until  I  run  across  you !  And  then  I  know 
why  blamed  well!" 

"Irritable,  too!  Dear,  dear!  Bob,  why  don't 
you  drop  in  at  the  doctor's  some  day  and  just  let 
him  look  you  over?  Of  course  there  may  be  noth- 
ing serious,  nothing  that  can't  be  remedied  if 
taken  in  time,  but  I'd  feel  a  lot  easier  about  you 
if  you  saw  someone,  honest  I  would!" 

"You'll  feel  easier  if  I  hand  you  a  wallop," 
growled  Bob.  ' '  Say,  if  you  played  guard  half  as 
hard  as  you  work  that  silly  tongue  of  yours  you 
might  amount  to  something!" 

Martin  spent  a  whole  hour  in  the  library  one 
morning  and  emerged  with  a  fine  fund  of  infor- 
mation regarding  the  sleeping  sickness  and  the 
ravages  of  the  tse-tse  fly,  and  after  that  he  be- 
came doubly  obnoxious  to  Bob.  Martin  may  or 
may  not  have  been  correct  in  connecting  the  bite 
of  the  tse-tse  with  the  sleeping  sickness,  but  the 
way  in  which  he  drove  the  flies  away  from  Bob's 
vicinity  proved  that  he  meant  to  take  no  chances. 


132  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

Strangely,  the  object  of  his  solicitous  care  re- 
sented this  manifestation  of  it  more  than  any 
other,  and  Martin  had  only  to  fix  a  piercing  gaze 
on  the  tip  of  Bob's  nose  and  begin  a  cautious 
approach  with  uplifted  hand  to  throw  Bob  into 
a  paroxysm  of  lamentable  anger.  Martin,  re- 
pulsed, would  explain  in  hurt  tones  that  never 
having  seen  the  tse-tse  fly  he  couldn't  be  supposed 
to  know  it  from  the  common  or  house-fly,  and  that 
he  consequently  was  using  only  excusable  caution. 
Naturally  enough,  Willard  and  Joe  enjoyed  the 
nonsense  and  egged  Martin  on,  but  when  the  latter 
began  flooding  Bob's  mail  with  patent  medicine 
circulars  and  stories  of  miraculous  cures  clipped 
from  the  newspapers,  Bob's  patience  became  ex- 
hausted and  he  vowed  revenge. 

"I'm  going  to  get  good  and  even  with  you, 
Mart,"  he  declared  one  afternoon  when  Martin 
had  drawn  his  attention  to  an  advertisement  ex- 
tolling the  merits  of  a  net  to  be  worn  over  the 
head  to  the  utter  confusion  of  mosquitoes  and 
flies.  "When  I  get  through  with  you,  my  humor- 
ous young  friend,  you  won't  know  there's  such  a 
word  as  'fly'  in  the  English  language.  And  you'll 
be  good  and  sick  yourself,  believe  me!" 

Martin,  however,  professed  to  believe  the 
threat  only  the  empty  ravings  of  a  mind  affected 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  133 

by  disease,  and  was  quite  interested  by  what  he 
declared  was  an  unusual  manifestation  of  the 
malady.  But  Bob  looked  unusually  grim  and  ex- 
hibited such  unaccustomed  patience  that  Martin 
confided  to  Willard  later  that  he  "guessed  he  had 
got  old  Bob's  goat  at  last." 

"You'd  better  watch  out  that  he  doesn't  get 
yours,"  laughed  Willard.  "I  believe  he  means 
to  try  it." 

"It's  the  last  stage  before  the  final  break- 
down," replied  Martin  gravely.  "He  won't  last 
much  longer,  I'm  afraid!" 

That  pessimistic  prophecy  was  made  on  Friday 
night,  and  the  next  afternoon  Alton  traveled  to 
Warren  and  played  Mt.  Millard  School.  Some 
eighty  or  ninety  fellows  accompanied  the  team 
and  were  present  at  the  Waterloo.  Willard 
watched  the  game  from  the  bench,  dressed  for 
play,  and  saw  his  chance  of  getting  into  it  dwindle 
into  nothingness  as  Mt.  Millard  piled  up  her 
score.  It  is  the  historian's  privilege  to  avoid  such 
events  as  he  may  consider  unworthy  of  inclusion 
in  his  narrative,  and  the  present  historian  gladly 
avails  himself  of  that  privilege.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  Mt.  Millard  out-rushed,  out-punted  and  out- 
generaled Alton  and  won  a  lopsided  contest  by  a 
score  of  19 — 0.  Joe  Myers  summed  it  all  up  on 


134  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

the  way  home  when  he  said  briefly:  "Funeral 
from  the  late  residence.     No  flowers." 

Later  that  game  was  looked  on  as  extremely 
good  medicine,  for  it  proved  one  or  two  things 
most  conclusively;  as,  for  instance,  that  a  back- 
field  wanting  the  services  of  a  good  plunging  full- 
back was  a  far  from  complete  institution,  and 
that  the  forward  line  of  a  football  team,  like  a 
chain,  was  as  strong  as  its  weakest  unit,  and  no 
stronger.  At  full-back  in  that  Mt.  Millard  game, 
Steve  Brown  had  proved  himself  a  failure.  Nor 
had  Linthicum,  who  had  taken  his  place  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  third  period,  done  any  better.  The 
following  week  saw  the  search  for  a  likely  suc- 
cessor to  Browne  take  on  new  ardor.  The  sub- 
stitute bench  was  combed  carefully  without  sat- 
isfactory results  and  Greenwood  was  brought  over 
from  the  second  team  and  given  a  try-out.  Green- 
wood did  his  level  best  to  please,  but  that  he 
failed  was  apparent  from  the  fact  that  he  was 
back  on  the  second  three  days  later.  Of  course 
Coach  Cade  tried  the  old  game  of  switching,  but 
Bob  Newhall,  Leroy,  who  played  left  tackle  none 
too  well,  Lake  and  Mawson  all  fell  down.  Even 
Martin  was  considered  and  passed  over,  and  on 
Thursday  the  full-back  problem  was  no  nearer  a 
solution  than  at  any  time  that  fall. 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  13S 

The  left  end  of  the  line  was  causing  trouble, 
too.  Leroy,  at  tackle,  appeared  to  be  miscast 
badly,  and  Sanford,  at  end,  was  no  match  for  his 
opponents  at  any  time.  Putney  and  Rhame,  the 
most  promising  tackle  and  end  substitutes,  were 
far  from  satisfactory.  That  week  was  a  week  of 
experiments  and  confusion,  and  Coach  Cade  had 
a  worried  look  quite  foreign  to  his  countenance. 
Three  days  of  wretched  weather  added  to  the  dif- 
ficulties, for  Tuesday,  Wednesday  and  Thursday 
were  each  cold  and  rainy,  and  by  the  last  day  the 
gridiron  was  not  much  better  than  a  bog.  Under 
these  circumstances  the  team  would  scarcely  be 
expected  to  make  much  progress,  nor  did  it.  Joe 
Myers  was  extremely  peevish  most  of  the  week 
and  Don  Harris,  visiting  Number  16  Haylow  one 
evening,  remarked  feelingly  that  he  would  be 
mighty  glad  when  football  was  over  for  the 
season. 

It  was  the  miserable  weather  on  Thursday  that 
sent  Willard  over  to  Upton  Hall.  There  had 
been  an  hour  of  indoor  practice  in  the  gymna- 
sium, but  the  slippery  ground  and  relentless 
downpour  of  rain  had  prohibited  any  use  of  the 
field,  and  at  half -past  four  Willard  found  himself 
at  a  loose  end.  Martin  had  gone  up  to  one  of  the 
society  rooms  in  Academy  Hall  to  play  pool,  and, 


136  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

although  he  had  asked  Willard  to  go  with  him, 
the  latter,  not  being  a  member,  had  thought  it 
best  to  decline.  On  the  porch  of  the  gymnasium 
he  watched  the  swishing  rain  and  the  inundated 
paths  and  wondered  what  to  do  with  himself. 
The  answer  came  when  his  disconsolate  gaze, 
roaming  the  cheerless  world,  lighted  on  Upton 
Hall.  Recollection  of  Felix  McNatt  and  his  invi- 
tation came  to  him  and,  turning  up  his  collar,  he 
plunged  into  the  deluge.  He  didn't  remember  the 
number  of  McNatt 's  room,  but  he  could  find  it, 
he  supposed.  On  the  second  floor,  he  knocked  on 
a  nearby  door  and  obtained  the  information  from 
a  surprised  occupant.  Number  49  proved  to  be 
on  the  third  floor,  and  Willard 's  knock  elicited  a 
muffled  "Come  in!"  As  the  door  was  locked, 
however,  Willard  did  not  immediately  accept  the 
invitation.  "Wait  a  moment,  please,"  came  Mc- 
Natt 's  voice  from  within.  Then  a  chair  was  over- 
turned, footsteps  approached  and  the  door  was 
thrown  open. 

' l  Oh,  hello ! ' '  greeted  McNatt  cordially.  * '  Come 
in.  Sorry  to  keep  you  waiting,  but  this  thing's 
out  of  order  somewhere."  He  leaned  down  to 
examine  a  bolt  on  the  door  frame,  and  then  fol- 
lowed with  his  eyes  a  wire  that  proceeded  from 
the  bolt  to  the  ceiling  and  across  the  latter, 


THE  FIKST  DEFEAT  137 

through  a  number  of  screw-eyes,  to  a  point  above 
the  study  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  From 
there  it  descended  to  within  convenient  reach  of  a 
person  seated  at  the  table,  terminating  in  a 
wooden  knob.  Willard  viewed  it  with  amused 
interest. 

"Quite  a  scheme,"  he  said.  "Your  invention, 
McNatt!" 

"Yes,  it  saves  time,  you  see.  Trouble  is, 
though,  it  will  get  out  of  order.  Ought  to  have 
small  wheels  for  it  to  run  on  instead  of  those 
eyes.  Let's  see  now."  He  pulled  the  knob  down 
and  the  bolt  slipped  obediently  from  its  socket 
with  a  business-like  click.  McNatt  shrugged  ex- 
pressively. "All  right  now,  you  see.  It  binds 
somewhere,  I  guess.  Sit  down,  Harmon."  He 
indicated  a  Morris  chair  in  need  of  repair  and 
Willard  seated  himself  and  looked  around.  The 
rooms  in  Upton  were  slightly  larger,  it  seemed, 
than  those  in  the  newer  dormitories,  and  Willard 
considered  it  a  most  fortunate  circumstance,  since 
a  smaller  room  would  never  have  accommodated 
all  the  articles  that  met  his  gaze.  Besides  the 
ordinary  furnishings,  there  were  two  bookcases, 
a  set  of  book  shelves  that  hung  on  a  wall  and  sev- 
eral boxes  up-ended  to  serve  as  auxiliary  tables. 
McNatt  was  telling  Willard  of  his  failure  to  find 


138  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

information  regarding  the  use  of  the  diving-rod 
in  the  location  of  metals  and  saying  some  bitter 
things  about  the  reference  department  of  the 
Academy  library,  but  Willard  was  too  much  inter- 
ested in  the  room  to  pay  much  heed. 

The  place  looked  like  a  compromise  between  a 
museum  and  a  laboratory.  Stuffed  birds  and 
small  animals  peered  down  with  glassy  eyes  from 
all  sides,  a  badly  mounted  pickerel  on  a  board 
presented  a  hungry  mouth,  a  snake  skin  depended 
from  the  corner  of  a  framed  picture  that  showed, 
in  colors,  what  was  probably  a  quiet  Sunday  after-! 
noon  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  It  was  an  engaging 
picture,  and  Willard  studied  it  curiously  before^ 
his  gaze  went  past.  All  the  animals  of  which  he 
had  ever  heard  were  depicted  in  it,  and  all  were 
grouped  about  in  peace  and  friendliness,  even  the 
lions  in  the  foreground  smiling  on  the  beholder 
with  truly  benevolent  countenances. 

Methods  of  saving  time  or  labor  were  apparent 
on  every  hand  in  the  shape  of  mechanical  appli- 
ances. A  complicated  arrangement  of  cords  al- 
lowed of  the  lowering  or  raising  of  the  window, 
shades  without  approaching  the  windows;  al- 
though Willard  could  not  see  that  it  was  any  far- 
ther from  the  table  to  the  windows  than  it  was  to 
the  side  of  the  room  where  the  cords  hung.!  Q* 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  139 

the  chair  in  which  he  sat  a  home-made  book- 
holder  was  attached  to  one  arm,  while,  by  reach- 
ing underneath,  one  could  pull  forth  an  extension 
that  accommodated  one's  legs  and  feet,  though 
probably  not  very  comfortably.  Later  he  discov- 
,ered  that  a  switch  attached  to  the  wall  beside  the 
head  of  McNatt's  bed  in  the  alcove  allowed  that 
ingenious  youth  to  put  on  or  off  the  electric  light 
•without  arising. 

The  bookcases  held  all  sorts  of  things  except 
books,  although  there  were  plenty  of  the  latter 
distributed  about  in  such  unusual  places  as  the 
window-seat  and  the  tops  of  the  two  chiffoniers. 
Indeed,  a  set  of  encyclopedias  of  ancient  vintage 
found  lodgment  along  the  baseboard  on  the  floor. 
,The  bookcases  had  been  consecrated  to  Science, 
it  appeared,  for  in  the  nearer  one  dozens  and 
dozens  of  birds'  eggs  peered  forth  from  cotton- 
batting  nests  and  in  the  other  McNatt's  collec- 
tion of  minerals  was  installed.  The  study  table 
overflowed  with  a  motley  debris  of  books,  papers, 
a  microscope,  pieces  of  wire,  bits  of  wood,  a  blow- 
pipe, a  specimen- jar  half  filled  with  a  dark-brown 
liquid  that  from  its  appearance  and  odor  was 
plainly  " working,"  a  mouse-trap — empty,  as 
"Willard  was  relieved  to  discover — and  so  many 
other  thiBgs  that  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt 


140  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

an  enumeration  of  them.  Willard  was  still 
looking  about  when  McNatt  interrupted  his  in- 
spection. 

4 'Would  you  like  to  see  my  minerals!"  he 
asked. 

Willard  politely  replied  that  he  would  and  Mc- 
Natt opened  the  doors  of  the  case  and  thereupon 
held  forth  for  some  ten  minutes,  during  which 
time  Willard  pretended  interest  in  various  speci- 
mens and  said  " Really?",  "Is  that  so?"  and 
"Indeed!"  dozens  of  times.  When  it  came  to  the 
birds'  eggs  he  had  the  courage  to  say  that  he 
wasn't  very  much  interested,  and  McNatt  passed 
them  by.  "I'm  thinking  of  getting  rid  of  them," 
he  announced.  "I  need  the  space  for  other 
things.  If  you  hear  of  anyone  who'd  like  a  nice 
collection  I  wish  you'd  let  me  know."  Willard 
agreed  and  was  shown  some  choice  things  in  co- 
coons, an  extensive  collection  of  butterflies  and 
moths  which  occupied  the  two  lower  drawers  of 
McNatt 's  chiffonier,  several  specimens  of  tree- 
fungus,  a  cigar-box  full  of  shells  gathered  along 
the  river,  a  pair  of  chameleons  in  a  shoe-box,  a 
number  of  small  phials  filled  with  liquids  of  vari- 
ous hues  which  McNatt  assured  him  were  vege- 
table dyes,  another  phial  of  whitish  powder  that 
its  exhibitor  called  kaolin,  and  numerous  other 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  141 

wonders.  McNatt  was  quite  impressive  about  the 
kaolin. 

1  'I  guess  I'm  the  only  one  who  knows  about  it,*' 
he  said,  lowering  his  voice  and  looking  guardedly 
toward  the  door.  "It's  immensely  valuable,  you 
know." 

"Is  it?"  asked  Willard. 

"Oh,  yes.  It's  what  they  make  porcelain  from. 
China  clay  they  call  it  sometimes.  There's  a  big 
deposit  of  it  where  I  found  this,  and  maybe  some 
day  I'll  buy  the  land  and  develop  it.  Meanwhile, 
of  course,  I'm  keeping  very  quiet  about  it." 

"Of  course,"  murmured  Willard. 

"And  here's  another  thing,"  continued  Mc- 
Natt. "Take  these  vegetable  dyes.  There  isn't 
one  of  those  you  couldn't  make  just  as  well  as 
I  did,  Harmon!" 

"You  don't  say?" 

"Yes,  sir!  And  every  one  is  matle  of  some- 
thing that  grows  right  beside  your  door,  as  you 
might  say.  Now  take  this."  He  shook  a  phial 
until  the  sediment  at  the  bottom  turned  the  liquid 
to  a  muddy  purple  as  seen  against  the  light. 
"Nothing  but  poke-berry!  I  don't  mind  letting 
you  in  on  that  because  lots  of  people  know  about 
getting  color  from  poke-berry.  But  here's  one, 
by  ginger*  you  won't  often  see!"  He  held  up  a 


142  LEFT  HALF  H ARMOft 

second  bottle  and  Willard  gazed  on  a  quite  gor-j 
geous  crimson.  "How's  that  for  color?"  askecj 
McNatt.  "You  don't  find  anything  finer  than 
that,  I'll  bet!" 

"Mighty  pretty,"  responded  Willard.  "What's 
that  made  from?" 

McNatt  chuckled,  winked  portentously  and 
shook  his  head.  "That's  a  secret.  I'd  tell  you 
only  I  might  want  to  go  into  the  business  some 
day,  Harmon.  Not  as  a  life-work,  you  under-i 
stand,  but —  Know  anything  about  mycology?"- 

"No,  what  is  it!" 

1  '  The  study  of  mushrooms  and  fungi.  Awfully; 
interesting.  I'm  just  taking  it  up.  Some  of  them 
make  wonderful  dyes,  and  that's  what  started  me. 
I've  found  thirteen  varieties  of  mushrooms  al- 
ready, and  I've  been  out  only  four  times."  He 
looked  approvingly  out  at  the  rain.  "There'll  be 
lots  of  them  tomorrow,  I  guess.  I  found  a  giant 
puff-ball  over  near  where  I  met  you  that  day, 
only  it  was  rotten.  They're  delicious  eating. 
Some  day  when  I  find  one  that's  in  good  condi- 
tion I'll  let  you  know  and  we'll  have  a  feast.  I've 
got  a  little  alcohol  stove  in  there  that  you  can  cook 
almost  anything  on.  I  had  a  few  the  other  night 
and  they  were  mighty  good.  Winfred — Winfred 
Fuller,  you  know;  he  rooms  here  with  me — Win* 


THE  FIEST  DEFEAT  143 

fred  said  they  made  him  feel  sort  of  sick,  but  I 
guess  it  was  more  likely  something  he  had  for 
dinner. ' ' 

''Still,  some  mushrooms  are  poisonous,  aren't 
they?"  inquired  Willard  doubtfully. 

"Lots  of  them,  but  it  isn't  difficult  to  tell  them 
from  the  others,  you  know.  I've  got  a  book  that 
tells  all  about  it.  Where  is  it?"  McNatt  looked 
rather  hopelessly  about  him.  "I  don't  see  it  just 
now.  Winf red's  mixed  my  things  up  again,  I 
dare  say.  He's  a  very  decent  fellow,  but  he 
hasn't  any  idea  of  orderliness.  Next  time  you 
come  it  will  probably  be  around." 

Their  travels  had  brought  them  back  to  the  cor- 
ridor end  of  the  room  and  Willard 's  attention 
[was  attracted  by  a  small  bottle  hanging  by  a 
string  from  a  thumb-tack  beneath  the  electric 
light  switch.  " What's  that  for?"  he  asked. 

"Eh?  Oh,  that?"  McNatt  removed  it  as  he 
spoke.  "That's  no  good  any  more.  I  had  a  glow- 
worm and  a  firefly  in  there,  but  the  firefly  ate  the 
glow-worm,  or  maybe  it  was  the  other  way 
around:  I  forget  now;  and  then  the  one  who'd 
eaten  the  other  one  died,  too. ' '  He  took  the  stop- 
per from  the  bottle  and  inverted  it,  allowing  the 
dried  remains  of  some  small  occupant  to  fall  out. 
*' Besides,"  he  added,  "you  can  buy  little  dink- 


144  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

uses  made  of  radium  that'll  do  the  same  thing 
now. ' ' 

''Well,  but— but  what  was  it  they  did?"  asked 
Willard. 

"Oh,  they  glowed,  you  know,  in  the  dark,  and 
showed  where  the  switch  was."  McNatt  tossed 
the  empty  bottle  to  the  table.  ' '  Trouble  was  they 
didn't  always  glow  when  you  wanted  them  to  and 
sometimes  you  had  to  stand  around  and  wait 
quite  a  while." 

Seated  again,  McNatt  tilted  back  in  his  chair 
and  observed  Willard  thoughtfully  for  a  moment. 
Then:  "Returning  to  the  subject  we  were  dis- 
cussing the  other  day,  Harmon,"  he  announced, 
"I've  been  sort  of  outlining  a  system  along  the 
lines  we  spoke  of.  I  haven't  gone  into  it  thor- 
oughly, of  course,  but  I've  estimated  that  the 
number  of  possible  situations  in  a  football  game 
approximate  one  hundred  and  sixty.  I  may  be 
slightly  in  error,  of  course,  for  I  haven't  played 
recently  and  there  have  been  several  alterations 
in  the  rules,  but  I'm  not  far  out  of  the  way.  That 
number  includes  situations  occurring  both  in  at- 
tack and  defense.  I've  got  a  rough  summary  here 
somewhere."  He  began  to  rummage  over  the 
table.  "It's  a  piece  of  yellow  paper.  Is  it  on 
your  side  anywhere?  Now  I  wonder  what  I  did 


THE  FIRST  DEFEAT  145 

with  it.  Well,  never  mind,  it'll  show  up  again 
some  day.  Anyway,  my  idea  would  be  to — ah — * 
catalogue  them,  as  one  might  say,  according  to 
their  locations  on  the  field  of  play.  I'd  divide 
the  gridiron  into,  say,  ten  zones  longitudinally 
and  three  zones  laterally,  giving  thirty  areas  in 
all.  Numbering — perhaps  lettering  would  be  bet- 
ter, though:  lettering  such  area—  Have  you  got 
to  go?" 

"Yes,  I'm  afraid  so,"  replied  Willard.  "I — : 
it's  getting  along  toward  six  o'clock.  I'd  like  to 
hear  about  it  some  other  time,  though,  McNatt. 
I  say,  why  don't  you  come  over  to  my  room  some 
evening  and  let  Mart  Proctor  hear  it?  He'd  be 
awfully  interested,  I'm  sure.  Mart's  on  the  team, 
too,  you  know;  plays  guard.  I  wish  you  would." 

"Why,  I  don't  visit  around  much,"  answered 
the  other  hesitantly,  as  he  reached  for  the  knob 
that  unbolted  the  door.  "I  don't  have  time,  you 
see,  and  just  now  I'm  most  interested  in  mycol- 
ogy, Harmon.  By  the  way,  don't  forget  about 
that  mushroom  supper  we're  going  to  have!" 


CHAPTER  XII 

"DO  YOUR  BEST" 

FRIDAY  dawned  fair  and  warm,  and  Willard,  look- 
ing forth  from  a  window  while  dressing,  smilingly 
pictured  McNatt,  far  afield,  gathering  mushrooms 
from  the  sunlit  meadows.  One  thing,  however, 
was  certain,  Willard  reflected,  and  that  was  that 
the  enthusiastic  McNatt  would  never  induce  him 
to  partake  of  that  mushroom  supper !  Yesterday 
he  might  perhaps  have  taken  a  chance,  but  today 
life  was  too  well  worth  living. 

In  the  afternoon,  contrary  to  custom,  there  was 
a  hard  and  prolonged  scrimmage  between  the  first 
and  second  teams.  Ordinarily  the  day  before  a 
contest  was  given  over  to  formation  drill,  with 
only  a  brief  line-up,  but  today,  with  Lorimer 
Academy  looming  dangerously  ahead,  Coach  Cade 
couldn't  afford  to  be  lenient.  One  radical  change 
in  the  first  team  line-up  was  apparent  when  the 
two  teams  faced  each  other.  Arnold  Lake,  the 
regular  left  half-back,  was  at  left  end  in  place 
of  San  ford,  and  Mawson  was  at  left  half.  Doubt- 
He 


1  'DO  YOUR  BEST" 

less  it  was  only  an  experiment  and  might  not 
prove  satisfactory,  but  Willard  saw,  with  a 
quickening  of  his  pulse,  that  if  the  change  became 
permanent  he  would  be  one  notch  nearer  the  real- 
ization of  his  hopes.  With  only  Mawson  and, 
perhaps,  Moncks  ahead  of  him,  the  position  of 
first  substitute  was  just  over  the  horizon.  And 
events  that  day  certainly  fostered  optimism,  for 
before  the  practice  game  was  over  Mawson  was 
relegated  to  the  bench  and  Willard  took  his  place. 
For  something  like  ten  minutes  life  was  very 
strenuous  for  him.  The  first  was  thrice  given  the 
ball  on  the  second's  twenty-yard-line  and  thrice 
failed  to  take  it  over,  although  Coach  Cade 
stormed  and  Gil  Tarver  commanded  and  Captain 
Bob  Myers  implored.  The  second  fought  desper- 
ately and  would  not  yield  the  final  few  feet.  In 
those  assaults  Willard  played  his  part  well,  mak- 
ing up  in  speed  and  aggressiveness  what  he  lacked 
in  weight.  If  he  didn't  perform  any  outstanding 
feat,  at  least  he  gained  as  certainly  as  Cochran, 
beside  him,  and  more  surely  than  Steve  Browne, 
again  restored  to  full-back  position  for  lack  of  a 
better  man.  The  nearest  thing  to  a  mishap  be- 
falling Willard  was  his  failure  to  hold  a  short 
forward-pass  over  the  left  of  the  line  that  might 
possibly  have  produced  the  desired  score.  But  he 


148  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

•was  sorely  beset  and,  jostled  and  badgered  by  the 
second  team  backs,  he  could  not  make  the  ball 
secure  after  it  reached  him.  That  came  in  the  last 
attack,  and  afterwards,  when  Cochran's  desperate 
attempt  at  the  left  of  center  had  failed  to  carry 
him  over  by  two  feet,  the  ball  was  given  to  the 
second  and  Greenwood,  standing  behind  his  goal, 
kicked  to  safety.  It  is  quite  possible  that  Willard 
looked  for  some  slight  expression  of  commenda- 
tion from  captain  or  coach  when  the  whistle  blew, 
for  he  was  under  the  impression  that  he  had  done 
none  so  badly  for  a  first  appearance  on  the  big 
team,  but  the  only  mention  of  his  part  in  the 
fracas  that  he  heard  was  made  by  the  quarter- 
back. Probably  Tarver  had  no  intention  of  being 
unkind,  but  his  regrets  haunted  Willard  for  the 
rest  of  the  day. 

"Too  bad  you  couldn't  hold  that  forward,  Har- 
mon," Tarver  said  on  the  way  back  to  the  gym- 
nasium. '  *  Gee,  we  'd  have  had  a  score  sure  if  you 
had!" 

Seeking  sympathy,  Willard  repeated  the  re- 
mark to  Martin  that  evening,  expecting  Martin  to 
tell  him  that  it  wasn't  his  fault  and  that  Gil 
Tarver  was  unreasonable.  But  Martin  only 
shook  his  head  as  he  replied  cheerfully:  "Yes, 
it  was  a  shame,  Brand.  Still,  I  don't  believe  first 


"DO  YOUR  BEST"  149 

would  have  scored.  Gil  threw  too  short  and  you 
were  five  yards  from  the  line." 

"We-ell,"  said  Willard,  "you  think  I  ought  to 
have  caught  it!" 

"What?  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that.  You've 
got  to  be  mighty  quick  to  get  your  hands  around 
a  forward  or  else  you'll  miss  it.  And  it's  a  heap 
easier  than  it  looks,  usually." 

Willard  went  to  sleep  that  night  somewhat  dis- 
heartened by  the  conclusion  that  Fortune  had 
given  him  an  opportunity  to  prove  his  ability  and 
he  had  failed.  Doubtless,  he  thought,  another 
such  opportunity  would  be  long  in  coming.  He 
lived  over  that  disastrous  attempt  to  catch  the 
forward-pass  and  wondered  whether,  had  he 
leaped  an  instant  sooner,  he  would  have  held  it; 
whether,  in  short,  anything  he  could  have  done 
and  didn't  would  have  insured  success.  He  tried 
to  comfort  himself  with  the  reiterated  assertion 
that  no  one,  not  even  Captain  Myers,  whose  work 
on  the  receiving  end  of  forward-passes  was  phe- 
nomenal, could  have  done  any  better,  but  he  fell 
asleep  before  reiteration  produced  conviction  and 
passed  through  a  number  of  unpleasant  dreams 
before  he  awoke  again  to  a  bright  and  brisk  Oc- 
tober morning. 

Lorimer   was    always    an   uncertain   quantity 


150  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

when  it  came  to  the  yearly  gridiron  contests  with 
Alton,  and,  since  the  red-legged  invaders  had 
nosed  out  a  victory  over  the  Gray-and-Gold  last 
fall,  it  was  held  to  be  highly  desirable  that  a  con- 
clusive defeat  be  handed  them  on  the  present  oc- 
casion. And  there  appeared  to  be  no  good  reason 
why  Alton  shouldn't  win,  for,  while  Lorimer  was 
well  coached  and  knew  plenty  of  football,  she  had 
sustained  two  defeats  so  far  this  season  and  had 
but  one  victory  to  her  credit. 

To  Willard,  observing  proceedings  from  the 
bench,  sandwiched  between  Martin  and  Ned  Rich- 
ards, the  playing  of  Lake  at  left  end  again  brought 
renewed  encouragement.  At  least  it  was  evident 
that  Mr.  Cade  believed  well  enough  of  the  experi- 
ment to  give  it  a  thorough  trial,  and  all  during  the 
game  Willard  rooted  hard,  if  silently,  for  the 
ex-half-back  and  prayed  that  he  would  make  good 
as  an  end !  Lorimer  took  the  kick-off  and  at  once 
showed  her  running  ability  when  a  tow-headed 
right  half  reeled  off  nearly  thirty  yards  before 
Cochran  brought  him  down.  The  enemy  showed 
several  novel  variations  of  old  plays  and  twice 
made  first  down  before  she  was  finally  forced  to 
kick  on  Alton's  forty- two  yards.  She  was  master 
of  the  shift  and  sent  her  plays  at  the  long  or  short 
side  of  the  line  with  beautiful  and  confusing  im- 


"DO  YOUR  BEST"  151 

partiality.  Also,  her  backfield  was  composed  of 
slim,  fast  and  elusive  youths  who  had  a  remark- 
able faculty  of  slipping  out  of  the  opponents' 
clutches.  In  brief,  it  became  apparent  during  the 
first  few  minutes  of  play  that  the  home  team  was 
destined  to  have  her  hands  full  that  afternoon 
and  would  be  supremely  fortunate  if  she  kept  her 
goal-line  inviolate.  The  first  quarter,  however, 
passed  without  either  team  reaching  scoring  dis- 
tance. There  was  much  punting,  at  which  Alton 
was  slightly  superior,  and  many  attempts  at  end 
running  by  Lorimer,  some  of  which  succeeded. 
Only  one  forward-pass  was  tried,  and  that,  by 
the  enemy,  went  wrong  and  landed  the  ball  in 
Alton's  hands.  The  latter  made  her  distance  five 
times  and  Lorimer  four,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
first  twelve  minutes  an  unbiased  critic  would  have 
said  that  on  performance  the  opponents  were 
about  equal.  He  might  have  added,  however,  that 
the  Red  somehow  gave  the  impression  of  having 
more  in  reserve  than  the  Gray-and-Gold,  and  if 
he  had  said  so  he  would  have  been  proved  correct 
by  future  events. 

Alton  started  a  brave  advance  in  the  second 
period  and,  with  Cochran  and  Mawson  alternate 
ing  on  attacks  between  tackles  and  Gil  Tarver 
scampering  around  the  ends,  thrice  made  it  first 


152  LEFT  HALF  HABMON 

down  in  enemy  territory.  But  on  Lorimer's 
twenty-seven  yards,  Lake  became  too  eager  and 
Alton  was  set  back  for  off-side,  and  after  a  futile 
attempt  to  make  up  the  lost  ground,  Tarver  fell 
back  and  kicked  to  the  three  yards.  Lorimer 
punted  on  second  down  and  the  pigskin  fell  into 
Tarver 's  hands  in  midfield  and  that  hustled  back 
seven  yards  before  he  consented  to  stop.  Alton 
took  up  the  journey  again,  while  some  three  hun- 
dred brazen-throated  adherents  cheered  encour- 
agingly from  the  stand.  Halted  on  the  thirty-six, 
Browne  threw  overhead  to  Joe  Myers  and  Joe 
caught  brilliantly  and  was  toppled  for  an  eight- 
yard  gain.  Lake,  skirting  around,  took  the  ball 
from  Tarver  and  tried  hard  to  make  good  on  the 
farther  side,  but  was  run  back  for  a  two-yard  loss. 
Another  forward  grounded,  and  Tarver,  with 
twelve  to  go  on  third  down,  faked  a  kick  and  car- 
ried outside  right  tackle  to  Lorimer's  sixteen  for 
the  distance.  The  Gray-and-Gold  shouted  jubi- 
lantly and  chanted  her  desire  for  a  touchdown. 
But,  although  Mawson  got  three  through  Lori- 
mer's left  and  followed  it  with  two  more  off  tackle 
on  the  other  side,  again  Fortune  turned  her  thumb 
down.  Stacey  Ross  was  caught  holding  and  a 
stern  referee  paced  the  pigskin  back  an  intermin- 
able fifteen  yards.  Tarver 's  run  from  kick  for- 


"DO  YOUR  BEST"  153 

mation  failed  to  fool  the  enemy  and  he  regained 
but  twelve  of  the  fifteen.  Perhaps  a  forward-pass 
would  have  gained  the  distance,  but  Tarver  chose 
to  try  for  a  field-goal,  and,  standing  near  Lori- 
mer's  twenty-five-yard  line,  he  held  out  his  hands 
while  the  stands  grew  still.  The  angle  was  not 
severe  and  if  Leroy,  at  left  tackle,  had  held  firm, 
the  quarter  would  probably  have  scored  three 
points  that  later  in  the  day  would  have  loomed 
large.  But  Leroy  gave  before  the  desperate  on- 
slaught of  the  foe  and  Tarver  was  hurried.  The 
ball  had  height  and  distance,  but  not  direction, 
and  passed  a  foot  to  the  right  of  the  nearest 
upright. 

The  half  ended  a  minute  later  with  the  pigskin 
in  Lorimer's  possession  near  her  forty. 

Willard  trotted  back  to  the  gymnasium  with 
the  rest  and  hugged  the  knowledge  that  Arnold 
Lake  had  shown  himself  a  valuable  man  at  the 
end  of  the  line.  Willard  could  have  told  you  al- 
most every  move  that  Lake  had  made  during 
those  twenty-four  minutes  of  playing  time !  Coach 
Cade  was  sparing  of  criticism  today,  for  no  glar- 
ing faults  had  been  apparent  and  the  fighting 
spirit  had  been  evident.  He  did  warn  against  in- 
fractions of  the  rules,  however,  pointing  out  that 
had  it  not  been  for  Ross's  holding  Alton  would 


154  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

now  be  at  least  six  points  to  the  good.  "We  lost 
thirty  yards  by  penalties,  and  Lorimer  lost  only 
ten.  The  twenty  yards'  difference  may  mean  the 
loss  of  the  game.  Guard  against  being  off-side, 
fellows,  and  against  holding.  Don't  let's  make 
the  opponent  any  gifts!  You've  got  to  fight 
harder  this  half  and  run  your  plays  off  quicker. 
You're  up  against  a  heady  bunch  of  fellows  and 
you've  got  to  outwit  them  as  well  as  outplay  them 
if  you're  going  to  win.  I  want  to  see  the  backs 
start  a  little  quicker  and  hit  the  line  with  more 
steam.  That  applies  to  you  especially,  Browne. 
You  have  a  rotten  tendency  to  slow  up  at  the  line, 
just  when  you  should  be  going  the  hardest.  You 
miss  two  and  three  yards  regularly  on  every  play 
by  that  sort  of  thing.  See  if  you  can't  put  more 
slam  into  it!" 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  back  again, 
greeted  by  the  longdrawn  "A — 1 — t — o — n! 
A—L—T—0—NH  A— L— T-O-N!!!"  from 
hundreds  of  throats.  And,  when  the  Gray-and- 
Gold-striped  players  had  spread  down  the  field  for 
the  kick-off,  there  came  the  sharp,  rifle-shot 
cheer  of 

A-L-T-0-N!      A-L-T-0-N!!       A-L-T-0-NMI 
Win !  Win !  Win !  Win !  Win !  Win !  Win !  Win ! 

It  was  nip-and-tuck  for  the  first  half  of  that 


"DO  YOUR  BEST"  155 

third  period,  with  neither  team  making  headway 
and  the  ball  in  air  half  the  time.  Alton's  forward- 
passes  failed  whenever  tried,  for  Lorimer  had  a 
really  brilliant  defense  against  that  play.  From 
one  thirty-yard  line  to  another  the  battle  raged, 
Lorimer  making  up  for  Alton 's  slight  superiority 
at  punting  by  a  better  end  attack.  Gains  through 
the  line  were  not  forthcoming  to  either  team.  Lor- 
imer began  to  use  her  substitutes  and  Coach  Cade 
followed  her  example  by  sending  in  Martin  Proc- 
tor for  Boss.  Just  before  the  period  ended  Gil 
Tarver  gave  way  to  Hutchins  at  quarter-back. 
There  was  no  scoring  and  the  whistle  piped  with 
the  ball  in  Alton's  hands  on  her  opponent's  thirty- 
eight. 

While  the  referee  carried  the  ball  across  the  cen- 
ter and  the  players  gathered  about  the  water  pails 
[Willard  heard  his  name  called  and  looked  down 
the  bench  to  see  Mr.  Cade  beckoning.  His  heart 
turned  a  complete  somersault — or  seemed  to — 
while  he  traversed  the  eight  yards  and  halted  be- 
fore the  coach ! 

"Harmon,  you've  showed  a  pretty  fair  knack  of 
getting  away  outside  tackles, ' '  said  Mr.  Cade.  ' '  Do 
you  think  you  could  manage  to  do  it  if  you  went 
in  there  now?" 

Willard  was  conscious  of  the  players  on  either 


156  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

side  of  the  coach,  could  feel  their  slightly  amused 
glances  on  him  and  knew  they  were  waiting  in- 
tently for  his  answer.  He  felt  supremely  awkward 
and  embarrassed  at  that  moment.  But  he  had  to 
say  something,  for  Mr.  Cade,  although  he  was 
watching  the  players  assembling  again,  was  await- 
ing a  reply. 

"I'll  try,  sir,"  he  managed. 

Mr.  Cade  nodded.  " Won't  promise,  eh?"  He 
looked  up  then  into  Willard's  face,  and  the  boy  was 
vastly  relieved  to  see  that  his  eyes  were  twinkling. 
UA11  right,  go  ahead,"  said  the  coach.  "Your 
right  end  looms  the  easiest,  Harmon.  If  you  can 
get  that  left  end  of  theirs  to  play  wide  for  a  for- 
ward-pass you  ought  to  be  able  to  get  started.  Do 
your  best,  boy,"  Mr.  Cade  nodded  again,  smilingly. 

"Left  half,  sir?"  asked  Willard,  through  the 
folds  of  his  sweater,  which  simply  wouldn't  come 
off. 

"Left  half,"  responded  the  coach. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A    FORTY- YARD   RUN 

MAWSON  yielded  position  and  head-guard  unwill- 
ingly. He  even  sneered  a  little,  but  Willard  was 
far  too  excited  to  see  it.  He  took  his  position  two 
yards  away  from  Cochran,  eyeing  that  youth's 
dirt-streaked  countenance  with  speculative  inter- 
est as  he  did  so,  and  awaited  Hutch's  signals. 
Slightly  behind  him,  Browne  was  breathing  ster- 
torously,  a  cut  at  one  corner  of  his  mouth  lending 
him  a  particularly  ferocious  look. 

"Third  down!"  chanted  the  referee.  " About 
six  to  gain!" 

Then  Willard  was  squirming  in  between  Leroy 
and  Myers,  while  Browne,  hugging  the  ball, 
smashed  past  center  on  the  other  side.  The  play 
went  for  three  yards.  Then  Hutch  punted  miser- 
ably, barely  over  the  heads  of  the  forwards,  and 
the  ball  plumped  into  the  Lorimer  quarter-back's 
arms  and  that  youth  came  dodging,  dashing  back 
up  the  field  to  the  thirty-one  yards.  On  the  first 
play  Macon  was  off-side  and  Alton  lost  five  yards. 
A  complicated  criss-cross  sent  a  back  plunging 


158  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

between  Newhall  and  Proctor,  and  Browne's 
tackle  missed  and  it  was  Hutch  who  laid  him  low; 
twelve  yards  behind  the  line.  The  visitor's  co- 
horts cheered  madly.  Lorimer  tried  a  forward  to 
an  end  far  to  the  right,  but  Lake  and  Willard  each 
had  the  man  marked  and  the  pass  grounded.  A! 
skin-tackle  play  off  Proctor  netted  four  yards, 
and,  on  third  down,  faking  a  kick,  the  Lorimer; 
full-back  plunged  straight  through  Nichols,  at 
center,  for  four  more.  Willard  emerged  from 
that  pile-up  with  a  ringing  head  and  was  glad 
when  time  was  called,  even  though,  as  it  proved, 
the  interlude  was  necessitated  by  an  injury  to 
Browne.  Willard  sat  down  on  the  ground  and 
tried  to  look  happy,  but  he  was  horribly  dizzy 
and  the  group  around  the  recumbent  full-back 
wavered  before  his  eyes.  Eventually  they  took 
Browne  off  and  replaced  him  with  Linthicum,  and 
the  game  went  on. 

Lorimer  was  on  her  mettle  now  and  she  made 
it  first  down  on  Alton's  forty-one  with  a  smash- 
ing attack  at  left  tackle.  Finding  that  spot  weak, 
she  tried  it  again  and,  although  Captain  Myers 
worked  like  a  Trojan  to  stop  up  the  gap,  an  enemy 
back  charged  through  for  nearly  five  yards.  Le- 
roy  was  pretty  well  played  out  after  that,  and 
Putney  took  his  place.  Lorimer  made  her  dis- 


A  FORTY- YARD  RUN  159 

fanee  in  two  more  downs,  using  a  shift  to  the  left 
followed  by  a  quarter-back  plunge  through  the 
opponent's  short  side  that  netted  the  needed  five 
yards  and  placed  the  pigskin  almost  on  the  home 
team's  thirty.  There,  however,  Alton  stiffened 
and,  after  two  attempts  at  the  line,  Lorimer  faked 
a  forward  and  sent  a  half  straight  through  be- 
tween Nichols  and  Newhall  for  seven  yards.  With 
three  to  go  on  fourth  down,  and  the  ball  on  the 
twenty-two,  Lorimer  walked  back  and  talked  it 
over.  Then  the  stage  was  set  for  a  placement 
kick  and  the  cheering  and  shouting  ceased. 

Followed  a  still,  tense  moment,  broken  only  by 
Hutch's  imploring  "Break  through,  Alton!  Block 
'it!"  and  the  quarter's  precise,  slow  signals.  Back 
went  the  ball,  too  high  but  straight  enough,  and 
the  quarter,  kneeling  on  the  turf  behind  the  Lor- 
imer line,  caught  it  deftly,  lowered  it  quickly  to 
earth  and  pointed  it.  Cries,  warnings,  the  rasp- 
ing of  canvas  against  canvas,  smothered  gasps, 
and  the  scene,  so  orderly  an  instant  before,  broke 
into  confusion.  Alton  tore  through  desperately, 
shouldering,  plunging,  reaching  into  the  path  of 
the  ball.  But  the  Lorimer  full-back,  deliberate  to 
the  point  of  danger,  swung  his  foot  and  the  ball 
Bailed  off,  barely  above  the  charging  foe,  rising 
slowly  and  turning  lazily  over  and  over  on  in  its 


160  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

flight.  There  was  a  moment  of  suspense  and 
then  a  white-sweatered  timekeeper  swung  his 
hands  above  his  head  and  Lorimer  cheered  wildly, 
triumphantly!  On  the  score-board  an  important 
young  Alton  sophomore  placed  a  glaring  white  3. 

Willard  followed  his  teammates  back  to  midfield 
in  silence.  There  wasn't  much  chatting  just  then, 
although  Hutch  called  cheerfully  enough  for  a 
score.  There  was  less  than  six  minutes  remain- 
ing, but  that,  Willard  assured  himself,  was  enough 
time  to  win  in.  On  the  stand  Alton  was  cheering 
heartily,  undismayed.  Coach  Cade  was  sending 
in  three  new  men :  Johnston  for  Proctor  at  right 
tackle,  McLeod  for  Macon  and  Moncks  for  Coch- 
ran.  For  a  moment,  seeing  Moncks  trotting  on, 
Willard 's  heart  sank,  but  it  was  Cochran's  head- 
guard  that  the  newcomer  donned.  Martin  had 
done  none  so  badly  at  tackle,  but  the  position 
was  a  strange  one  to  him  and  he  had  had  his  bad 
moments. 

Lorimer  kicked  off  and  the  battle  began  again. 
The  ball  went  to  Moncks  and  Willard  swung  in 
ahead  and  was  joined  by  Hutchins  and  the  three 
went  sweeping  diagonally  across  the  field.  Then 
Willard  met  an  enemy  and  both  sprawled,  and 
Linthicum  darted  away  from  the  interference  and 
ran  straight  into  the  arms  of  a  big  Lorimer  guard 


A  FORTY-YARD  RUN  161 

The  teams  lined  up  in  the  twenty-four  yards  close 
to  the  side-line.  Hutch's  heave  to  Joe  Myers 
went  short,  was  tipped  by  a  Lorimer  end  and  fell 
to  the  ground.  On  the  next  play,  Willard,  ball 
hugged  tight,  swept  around  his  own  end  behind 
Hutch  and  Myers,  dodged  the  opposing  end, 
turned  in  and  dodged  and  twisted  for  eight  yards 
before  he  was  dragged,  still  fighting  hard,  to 
earth.  Linthicum  tried  the  right  of  the  line  and 
lost  a  yard  and  Moncks  made  it  first  down  past 
tackle.  A  short  forward  over  the  line  landed 
safely  in  Joe  Myers'  hands  for  nine  yards  and 
Willard  added  two  through  left  guard. 

Just  short  of  the  middle  of  the  field,  with  the 
minutes  running  fast,  Hutch  called  for  Forma- 
tion C  and  the  Alton  line  spread  widely.  Lorimer 
edged  out  in  answer.  Willard,  crouched  behind 
his  left  guard,  looked  straight  ahead.  Hutch 
called  his  signals.  Linthicum  swung  and  ran 
across  the  field  to  the  left.  Back  shot  the  ball  to 
Hutch,  five  yards  behind  center.  Lorimer  charged, 
coming  through  the  wide  gaps  in  the  Alton  line. 
Hutch  stepped  back  while  Willard  crossed  in  front 
of  him.  Then  came  a  short  pass  and  the  left  half, 
the  ball  snuggled  in  his  right  elbow,  shot  straight 
into  the  line.  Linthicum 's  diversion  had  drawn 
the  Lorimer  backfield  from  position,  and  Willard, 


162  LEFT  HAT,F  HAEMON 

having  dodged  one  slow-moving  Lorimer  forward, 
found  an  open  field  for  several  yards.  Then,  how- 
ever, the  enemy  closed  about  him  and  his  race 
seemed  run.  There  was  no  interference  to  aid 
him,  for  Hatch  was  down,  and  Moncks,  having  run 
the  end  out,  was  far  behind.  McLeod  made  a  des- 
perate effort  to  get  into  the  running,  but  Willard 
was  fleeter.  He  side-stepped  a  Lorimer  half  and 
was  momentarily  free,  and  swung  toward  the 
middle  of  the  field  as  he  crossed  the  enemy's 
forty.  Behind  him  raced  friend  and  foe.  He  had 
slipped  through  the  worst  of  the  opposition,  but 
ahead  of  him  a  determined  quarter  awaited  and 
from  the  left  speeded  a  hall  The  latter  Willard 
scarcely  feared,  for  he  had  a  fair  lead,  but  the 
quarter  spelled  disaster.  Nearer  and  nearer  he 
came  to  the  latter,  a  smallish,  hard-fighting  youth 
who  held  his  distance  grimly,  only  moving  slightly 
to  the  right  as  though  anticipating  Wfllard's  in- 
tention. The  Alton  stand  was  shouting  wildly. 
confusedly,  but  Willard  had  no  knowledge  of  it. 
The  thumping  of  his  heart  and  the  rasping  of  his 
breath  seemed  to  be  the  only  sounds  in  the  world! 
Then  the  supreme  instant  came.  Close  to  the 
thirty-yard  line  the  enemies  met.  Something  had 
told  Willard  that  the  opponent  was  too  knowing, 
too  quick  and  agile  to  be  fooled  by  aide-stepping, 


A  FOETY-YAKD  RUN  163 

and  so,  a  few  yards  away,  Willard  shifted  the 
ball  to  his  stomach,  clasped  both  hands  over  it 
and  put  his  head  down.  Straight  into  the  quarter 
he  charged,  with  every  ounce  of  strength  thrust- 
ing his  body  forward.  And  as  he  charged  he 
twisted  and  spun. 

Arms  encompassed,  his  thighs  and  hands 
clutched  desperately,  yet  he  found  his  stride  again 
and  went  forward.  Something  clung  for  a  mo- 
ment to  one  leg  and  he  staggered,  fell  to  a  knee 
and  threw  his  body  forward.  The  weight  was 
gone  and  he  was  on  his  feet  again!  He  set  his 
straining  eyes  on  the  goal  posts  and  struggled 
forward.  But  now  it  seemed  that  his  feet  were 
huge  pieces  of  lead  and  his  head  swam  dizzily. 
Four  strides,  five,  six,  and  again  he  felt  the  touch 
of  fingers  that  groped  for  a  hold.  Summoning 
his  remaining  strength,  he  moved  free,  head  back 
and  lungs  bursting.  He  was  past  the  fifteen-yard 
line  and  the  gray,  padded  posts  wavered  in  the 
sunlight,  close  at  hand.  But  he  was  not  to  reach 
them. 

If  Willard  had  run  a  good  race,  so,  too,  had  the 
Lorimer  right  half-back,  and  the  latter  had  been 
but  a  scant  five  yards  away  when  Willard  had 
shaken  himself  free  of  the  quarter's  tackle.  And 
so,  just  short  of  the  ten  yards,  the  struggle  ended. 


164  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

A  last  supreme  effort  and  the  pursuer 's  arms 
wrapped  themselves  around  the  quarry's  legs. 
One  short  stride  followed  and  then  pursued  and 
pursuer  lay  prone  and  unmoving  across  the  lime 
mark! 

That  ended  Willard  Js  usefulness  for  that  day, 
just  as  it  ended  the  usefulness  of  his  captor,  for 
both  boys  were  fairly  run  out.  But  the  ball  lay 
well  inside  the  ten  yards,  and  Alton's  cheers  were 
exultant  and  unceasing  while  the  half-fainting 
youths  were  administered  to,  Longstreth  raced 
out  to  replace  Willard  and  Lorimer  sent  in  a  sub- 
stitute right  half.  Willard  saw  the  last  three 
minutes  of  the  game  from  a  pile  of  blankets  at  the 
end  of  the  bench,  saw  his  teammates  make  three 
gallant  attempts  to  conquer  those  last  stubborn 
nine  yards,  saw,  with  a  sinking  heart,  Moncks 
stopped  two  yards  from  the  line  and  hurled  back, 
saw  Captain  Myers  walk  determinedly  back  up 
the  field  to  kicking  position. 

Hopeless  gloom  shrouded  the  bench.  Myers 
was  no  goal  kicker,  and  all  knew  it.  Had  there 
been  a  single,  solitary  player  out  there  who  knew 
the  least  thing  about  that  art  he  would  never  have 
attempted  it.  But  substitution  had  deprived  the 
team  of  Cochran  and  Tarver  and  Macon,  and  none 
of  those  who  remained  on  the  bench  could  be  de- 


A  FORTY- YARD  RUN  165 

pended  on.  When  all  was  said  and  done,  perhaps 
Hutch  might  have  chosen  more  wisely  had  he 
risked  a  forward-pass  on  that  final  down.  Yet 
Hutch  knew  that  Lorimer  would  be  looking  for 
that  play  and  knew  that  if  it  failed  Alton's  last 
opportunity  to  score  would  be  lost.  And  he 
didn't  make  the  choice  unaided,  for  Joe  Myers 
counseled  it.  Joe  said  afterwards  that  he  had 
no  more  idea  of  booting  the  ball  over  than  he  had 
of  flying.  Yet  a  more  effortless,  more  perfect 
drop-kick  than  he  made  would  have  been  hard  to 
imagine!  Straight  between  the  uprights  and 
well  over  the  cross-bar  it  sailed,  and  no  one  needed 
the  corroboration  of  the  official's  upthrown  hands 
to  tell  him  that  Alton  had  tied  the  score ! 

And  a  tied  score  it  remained  when  the  final 
whistle  blew. 

Alton  showed  as  much  delight  over  the  drawn 
battle  as  though  she  had  won  overwhelmingly, 
and  Lorimer,  trying  hard  to  smile,  took  what  com- 
fort she  could.  But  if  the  School  felt  jubilant  and 
triumphant,  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  Coach 
Cade  did  not  share  its  emotions.  That  game  had 
clearly  demonstrated  the  fact,  long  suspected, 
that  the  Gray-and-Gold  backfield  was  far  from  the 
scoring  combination  it  should  be.  With  Lake 
playing  left  end,  a  position  he  had  proved  his  fik 


166  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

ness  for  that  afternoon,  the  left  half-back  posi- 
tion was  left  to  Mawson  or  Harmon.  Each,  while 
he  showed  much  promise,  was  inexperienced. 
Cochran,  on  the  other  side,  was  steady  but  far 
from  brilliant.  The  full-back  position  was  the 
weakest  spot  of  all.  Neither  Browne  nor  Linthi- 
cum  had  the  hard-fighting  spirit  needed.  That 
Alton  had  not  met  defeat  was  due  to  a  flash  of 
cleverness  on  the  part  of  Harmon  and  not  to  any 
'dependable  team-work  by  the  backs.  The  coach, 
while  he  appeared  to  be  listening  attentively 
enough  to  Joe  Myers'  short-breathed  remarks  as 
they  walked  together  to  the  gymnasium,  was  in 
reality  grimly  determining  on  a  backfield  shake 
up  when  Monday  arrived. 

"If  there 'd  been  anyone  around  him  to  put  that 
Lorimer  half-back  out,'*  said  Joe,  "he'd  have 
made  it  easily." 

"Who!"  Mr.  Cade  asked  blankly. 

"Why,  Brand  Harmon!  He  made  a  corking 
try,  anyway!" 

"Harmon?  Yes,  that's  so,"  agreed  the  coach 
thoughtfully.  "Think  it  was  an  accident?  Sup- 
pose he  could  do  it  again?" 

"He's  got  it  in  him,"  answered  Joe  con- 
vincedly.  "Give  him  a  try,  sir.  I  would." 

"I  think  I  shall,"  mused  the  other.  "He  cer- 
tainly deserves  it." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ONIONS  ! 

THEY  went  to  the  movies  that  evening,  a  jovial, 
noisy  "gang"  of  nearly  a  dozen  that  included  the 
"Three  Guardsmen,"  Willard,  Don  Harris,  Sta- 
cey  Ross,  Cal  Grainger  and  several  more.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  picture  lacked  action  to  a  lamentable 
degree,  being  largely  concerned  with  the  doings  of 
a  few  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  when  at  home, 
which  was  infrequent,  lived  in  large  white  marble 
palaces  in  Westchester  County,  New  York.  At 
least,  the  titles  placed  the  scene  of  the  story  in 
Westchester  County,  but  Martin  expressed  incre- 
dulity, asserting  that  he  had  never  seen  palmet- 
toes  and  cocoanut  palms  growing  in  that  locality 
in  such  profusion.  Jack  Macon,  however,  was  of 
the  opinion  that  "anyone  as  rich  as  those  guys 
could  have  their  lawns  trimmed  with  palms  even 
if  they  lived  at  the  North  Pole ! ' '  The  hero  was 
a  strapping  gentleman  with  a  broad,  flat  face, 
large,  limpid  eyes  and  a  very  brief  mustache.  He 
dressed  immaculately  on  all  occasions,  which, 
since  he,  like  everyone  else,  was  forever  "week- 

167 


168  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

ending"  somewhere,  must  have  caused  him  a 
great  deal  of  thought  and  care.  Of  course,  he  had 
a  Japanese  valet  at  his  beck  and  call,  and  that 
probably  helped.  Don  Harris  declared  that  when 
he  became  wealthy  he  would  have  a  valet  just  like 
the  one  in  the  picture.  "Why,"  he  marveled, 
"that  fellow  doesn't  even  have  to  go  to  the  tele- 
phone. The  valet  pulls  the  thing  out  by  the  roots 
and  brings  it  to  him  wherever  he  is !  That's  what 
I  call  service!" 

Paul  Nichols,  who  had  played  center  all 
through  the  afternoon's  game  and  who,  conse- 
quently, was  rather  tired,  went  sound  asleep 
somewhere  about  the  third  reel  and  snored  loudly 
until  the  final  "fade-out,"  to  the  amusement  of 
his  companions  and  the  audience  in  general. 
Martin  expressed  the  fear,  loudly  enough  to  be 
heard  by  Bob,  several  seats  distant,  that  Nichols 
had  contracted  the  sleeping  sickness  from  "one 
of  our  number."  The  comedy  that  followed  the 
big  picture  provided  a  few  "fine  moments,"  but, 
on  the  whole,  the  party  considered  that  they  had 
wasted  the  evening.  Nichols  was  aroused  with 
difficulty  and  led,  in  a  comatose  condition,  up  the 
aisle  and  into  the  street  where  the  brisk  October 
breeze  that  was  hurrying  and  scurrying  through 
the  little  town  awakened  him  more  thoroughly. 


ONIONS!  169 

Having  missed  most  of  the  entertainment,  Nichols 
insisted  on  partaking  of  food  and  drink  and,  be- 
ing in  funds  this  evening,  invited  the  party  to 
visit  the  lunch-cart.  This  vividly  painted  institu- 
tion stood  at  night  in  the  square  at  the  other  side 
of  town,  a  matter  of  twelve  blocks  in  distance,  but, 
as  Nichols  pointed  out,  the  night  was  still  young. 
So  they  set  out,  decorously  joyous,  along  West 
Street,  "window  shopping"  as  they  went,  and 
turned  down  Meadow  Street  and  finally  reached 
the  Square  and  hailed  the  crimson  and  blue  win- 
dows of  the  "Owl  Night  Lunch"  with  shouts  of 
approval  that  won  them  the  fleeting  interest  of 
the  single  blue-coated  guardian  of  the  law  on  duty 
there.  Fortunately,  since  their  numbers  were 
many,  the  lunch-cart  held  but  a  solitary  patron,  a 
car  conductor  indulging  in  the  delicacy  referred 
to  on  the  wall  as  "Tonight's  Special:  Pork  Chop 
and  Fried  Onions,  30c."  The  viands  had  diffused 
a  perceptible  fragrance  through  the  establish- 
ment, but  no  one  voiced  criticism  save  Martin. 
M-Aiin  halted  at  the  doorway  and  registered  sus- 
picion followed  by  disgust. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Bob,  behind  him. 
"Go  on  in!" 

"Onions!"  said  Martin  in  pained  tones. 

"What  of  it?" 


170  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

"I  can't  stand  'em.    Gee,  the  place  is  full  of 
?em!" 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to  eat  them,"  replied 
Bob  comfortingly,  while  those  behind  him  earn- 
estly requested  "gangway!"  Martin  allowed 
himself  to  be  shoved  inside,  but  during  the  sub- 
sequent proceedings  he  wore  his  nose  in  an  ele- 
vated position  and  looked  most  unhappy,  a  cir- 
cumstance that  interested  Bob  greatly  for  a 
reason  not  then  apparent.  Sandwiches  and  coffee 
constituted  the  menu  served.  Bob  generously  of- 
fered to  buy  Martin  a  chopped  onion  sandwich  if 
he  would  eat  it,  which  offer  was  thanklessly,  al- 
most rudely,  declined.  That  banquet  cost  Paul 
Nichols  most  of  his  cash  in  hand,  but  he  settled 
the  bill  in  an  almost  regal  manner ;  quite,  as  Mar- 
tin commented,  as  though  he  lived  amongst  the 
palms  of  Westchester ! 

Going  back,  Willard  walked  with  Joe  and  Jack 
Macon,  and  the  talk  was  mostly  of  the  day's 
game.  Joe  was  rather  cynical  and  predicted  dis- 
aster in  the  Kenly  contest  unless  things  goi  uet- 
ter  soon.  "We  need  beef  on  the  team,"  said  Joe 
bitterly.  "We've  got  plenty  of  fellows  who  know 
football,  but  they're  too  lady-like,  Jack.  It 
doesn't  do  to  stop  and  apologize  before  you  hit 
the  line  or  keel  a  chap  over !  Kenly  will  bring  a 


ONIONS!  171 

lot  of  hard-hitting  *  rough-necks '  that'll  make  us 
look  like  a  parcel  of  'co-eds'!" 

"Oh,  we  aren't  that  bad,"  said  Jack  soothingly. 
-'It's  early  yet — " 

"Early  nothing!  The  season's  half  over!  Gee, 
we've  got  to  learn  to  fight,  Jack,  or  we'll  get  lit- 
erally walked  on!" 

"Seems  to  me  the  backfield's  a  hit  light,  Joe." 

"Of  course  it  is,  and  it's  lighter  than  ever  since 
Lake's  gone  to  left  end.  We've  got  to  find  a  full- 
back, and  find  him  mighty  quick,  and  that's  no 
dream!" 

"Too  bad  you  couldn't  land  that  fellow  Har- 
mon you  were  talking  about,"  said  Jack.  Then 
he  turned  in  a  puzzled  way  to  Willard.  "Say, 
your  name's  Harmon,  too,  isn't  it!"  he  exclaimed. 
"That's  odd!" 

"Not  very,"  said  Joe  hurriedly.  "The  Har- 
mon I  was  after  was  Brand's  brother.  If  we'd 
got  him  we'd  been  fixed." 

"What  happened!"  asked  Jack.  "I  under- 
stood it  was  all  fixed  up." 

"Oh,  he  changed  his  mind,"  replied  Joe  care- 
lessly. "Went  into  the  Navy,  didn't  he,  Brand?" 

"Yes,"  corroborated  Willard  gravely. 

"Too  bad,"  murmured  Jack.  "Too  bad  you 
aren't  your  brother,  Harmon!" 


172  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Well,  Brand's  doing  pretty  well  where  we  had 
him  today,"  said  Joe. 

" Rather!"  agreed  the  other.  "He  surely  had 
one  fine  moment  this  afternoon.  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  that  Lorimer  end  or  half — which  was  he? 
Half?— well,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  him  Harmon 
would  have  scored  in  a  romp ! ' ' 

"That's  the  trouble  with  C  Formation,"  replied 
Joe.  "If  the  runner  does  get  away  he  has  no 
interference  half  the  time.  The  end's  supposed 
to  get  free  and  go  ahead,  but  he  can't  do  it  very 
often.  The  more  I  think  about  today's  game,  fel- 
lows, the  more  certain  I  am  that  we  were  mighty 
lucky  to  break  even !  Lorimer  ought  to  have  won 
on  the  showing  she  made." 

"Well,  she  didn't,"  answered  Jack  cheerfully. 
"And  results  count." 

Up  ahead,  Bob  was  questioning  Martin  regard- 
ing the  latter 's  lack  of  enthusiasm  for  onions. 
"What  is  it  you  don't  like  about  them,  Mart?  The 
taste  or  the  smell  or  what?" 

"I  don't  like  either,"  said  Martin.  "Folks  who 
eat  onions  belong  to  a  low  order  of  humanity. 
Criminals  and  idiots  and  such  folks  are  always 
fond  of  them,  I've  read." 

"Where  do  you  get  that  stuff?"  asked  Stacey 
Ross.  "Look  at  Garibaldi." 


ONIONS!  173 

"Where?"  asked  Martin  flippantly. 

"Wasn't  he  a  patriot  and  a  man  of  brains  and 
• — and  blameless  life?"  pursued  Stacey. 

"I  guess  so,"  assented  Martin  doubtfully. 

"All  right!  Garibaldi  invented  onions,  didn't 
he?" 

Martin  viewed  him  suspiciously.  "Well,  maybe 
he  did,  but  I'll  bet  he  didn't  eat  them!  Carbol 
invented  carbolic  acid,  but  he  didn't  drink  it, 
did  he!" 

"Garibaldi,"  remarked  Bob  gravely,  "made 
onions  his  principal  diet:  ate  them  three  times 
a  day  and  fed  his  army  on  them!" 

"Oh,  well,  he  was  an  Italian,"  said  Martin. 
"I'm  talking  about  folks  in  this  country." 

"George  Washington  invariably  began  the  day 
with  a  raw  sliced  onion,"  said  Bob.  "History 
tells  you  that." 

"Sure,"  asserted  Stacey.  "Wasn't  it  Wash- 
ington who  said  'In  onion  there  is  strength'?" 

"You  fellows  make  me  weary,"  retorted  Mar- 
tin. "I'll  bet  you  eat  them  yourselves!  As  I  re- 
marked hitherto,  the  onion  is  the  favorite  fruit 
of  the  mentally  deficient!  And  you  fellows  talk 
like  you  never  ate  anything  else ! ' ' 

Stacey  continued  to  expatiate  on  the  merits  of 
the  onion,  but  Bob  relapsed  into  silence.  He  had 


174  LEFT  HALF  HARMON! 

been  visited  by  an  idea  and  he  was  busy  develop^ 
ing  it  all  the  rest  of  the  way  back  to  school.  When 
he  said  good  night  to  Martin  later  in  front  of 
Lykes  there  was  an  expression  on  his  face  that 
might  have  caused  the  other  some  uneasiness  had 
he  noticed  it. 

"It's  awfully  funny,"  remarked  Martin  after; 
dinner  the  next  day,  "but  I  can  still  taste  those 
onions,  Brand." 

"What  onions?"  asked  Willard. 

"In  that  lunch-cart  last  night.  Taste  the  smell 
of  them,  I  mean.  It's  just  as  though  I'd  eaten 
them  myself.  Gosh,  I  didn't  enjoy  my  dinner  a 
bit,  either.  Everything  seemed  to  smell  of  the 
beastly  things!" 

"We  didn't  have  onions  at  our  table,"  said 
Willard. 

"Neither  did  we,  but  I'll  swear  I  could  almost 
smell  them!  It's  queer,  but  I  simply  can't  stand 
the  smell  of  onions.  It  almost  makes  me  sick.  I 
can  go  a  little  of  it,  of  course,  and  I  manage  to 
eat  soups  and  things  like  that  that  are  flavored 
with  onions,  but  I  don't  like  them." 

"Maybe  there  was  onion  in  the  gravy  or  some- 
thing," Willard  suggested.  But  Martin  shook  his 
head. 

Vlt  isn't  that.    I  guess  I  got  my  lungs  full  of 


ONIONS!  175 

the  smell  last  night.  Funny  thing  is,  though,  that 
it  seems  almost  as  if  I  could  taste  them!" 

4  *  You  '11  get  over  it, ' '  Willard  consoled.  '  *  Let 's 
go  for  a  walk.  Maybe  the  air  will  do  you  good." 

Later  Martin  confessed  that  the  imaginary 
onions  bothered  him  less,  but  after  supper  the 
trouble  recurred,  and  he  was  fairly  miserable  and 
wore  a  pained  look  all  the  evening.  "I  guess  it's 
dyspepsia,"  he  confided  to  them  in  Bob's  room. 
"No  matter  what  I  eat,  seems  as  if  it  was  flavored 
with  onion.  I  ought  never  to  go  near  the  beastly 
things." 

"You  must  have  a  very  delicate  stomach,"  ob- 
served Bob  sympathetically.  "I  knew  a  fellow 
once  who  was  like  you.  He  couldn't  stand  the 
sight  of  garlic.  He'd  go  a  mile  out  of  his  way 
so  as  not  to  have  to  pass  by  a  garlic— er— grove, 
illsed  to  get  sick  at  the  mere  mention  of  the 
word!" 

"Is  that  so?"  asked  Martin  with  almost  a  sneer. 
"What  was  his  name!" 

•N 

"His  name?  Why— er — Smith,  Jack  Smith: 
Did  you  know  him?" 

"No,  but  I  knew  an  awful  liar  once,"  answered 
Martin  stiffly.  "His  name  wasn't  Jack,  though,  it 
was  Robert." 

Afterwards,  back  in  the  room  and  preparing 


176  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

for  bed,  Martin  spoke  earnestly  of  seeing  a  doctor 
on  the  morrow  if  he  didn't  stop  smelling  onions 
and  even  tasting  them,  and  Willard  said  he; 
thought  it  would  be  a  very  sensible  thing  to  do^ 
and  was  careful  to  hide  his  smile  behind  the  jacket' 
of  his  pajamas.  In  the  morning,  though,  Martin 
was  quite  himself  again  and  told  Willard  he 
guessed  he'd  imagined  those  onions. 

But  two  hours  later,  returning  to  Number  16 
for  a  book,  Willard  discovered  a  very  pale  and 
unhappy  Martin  stretched  out  on  the  window-seat 
with  his  head  on  the  ledge  and  a  chilling  October 
wind  ruffling  his  locks.  "Onions,"  groaned  Mar- 
tin in  response  to  Willard 's  concerned  inquiry. 
"I — I've  got  them  again,  something  fierce!"  He 
closed  his  eyes  and  shuddered.  "Do  you  smell 
them,  Brand?"  he  asked  weakly. 

Willard  sniffed  the  air  and  truthfully  replied 
that  he  didn't.  Martin  sighed  dolorously.  "I 
can't  make  it  out,"  he  said.  "I  was  all  right  this 
morning  until  breakfast.  Then,  just  as  soon  as  I 
got  to  the  table  it  came  back.  Everything  seemed 
to  smell  of  onions,  and  taste  of  'em,  too.  Why, 
even  the  coffee  did!" 

"I  suppose  you  imagined  it,"  murmured 
Willard. 

"I  suppose  so.    No  one  else  noticed  it.    I  guess 


ONIONS!  177 

I'll  have  to  cut  French.  Tell  Metcalfe  I'm  sick, 
will  you,  Brand?" 

"Yes,  but  why  don't  you  take  something?" 

1  'What '11  I  take?"  groaned  Martin. 

"Soda-mint  tablets  are  good,  I  think.  Hot 
water,  too.  Want  me  to  get  you  some  hot 
water!" 

Martin  nodded  weakly  but  gratefully,  and  Wik 
lard  went  off  to  the  lavatory  and  presently  re- 
turned with  a  tooth-mug  filled  with  scalding-hot 
water.  As  it  was  then  time  for  a  nine  o'clock 
recitation,  he  had  to  leave  Martin  sipping  and 
shuddering.  When  he  next  saw  him,  shortly  be- 
fore dinner,  he  was  much  better  physically  but  in 
poor  mental  condition.  His  disposition  was  ut- 
terly vile.  He  put  his  tongue  out  and  wagged  it 
accusingly  at  Willard. 

"I  burned  my  tongue,"  he  said.  "That  water 
was  too  blamed  hot!" 

"Too  bad,"  replied  Willard  soothingly.  "It 
made  you  feel  better,  though,  didn't  it?" 

"What  if  it  did?  What's  the  good  of  feeling 
better  if  your  tongue  is  all  scalded?"  Martin  de- 
manded huffily.  "Why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 

"Tell  you  what?"  asked  Willard  indignantly. 
"Not  to  burn  your  tongue,  you  simp?" 

"Tell  me  it  was  so  hot!    HowM  I  know?" 


178  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"I  thought  maybe  you  could  tell  by  the  feel  of 
it,"  answered  Willard  dryly.  "Most  folks  can!" 

"Funny,  aren't  you?"  Martin  turned  disgrunt- 
edly  to  the  window,  and  after  a  moment  Willard 
asked : 

"Did  you  get  to  any  classes?" 

"Math,"  grunted  the  other.  "I  was  too  sick 
for  the  rest  of  them.  What  time  is  it?" 

"Nearly  half -past.     Coming  along?" 

"I  don't  believe  I  want  any  dinner.  What's 
the  use?  It'll  just  taste  of — of  those  things!" 

"Onions?"  asked  Willard  innocently. 

"Shut  up!  Don't  speak  of  'em!"  yelled  Mar- 
tin. "Now  you've  made  me  all  squirmy  again!" 
He  sank  to  the  window-seat,  placed  anxious  hands 
on  his  waistcoat  and  glared  at  Willard  accusingly. 
"I  was  feeling  all  right,  too!" 

"Well,  how  did  I  know  you  didn't  want  me  to 
say — " 

"Cut  it  out,  I  tell  you!" 

"I  wasn't  going  to  say  on — " 

"You're  saying  it!"  shrieked  Martin.  "I  hope 
you  get  it,  too!  When  you  do,  I'll  say  'onions' 
to  you!  You  see  if  I  don't!" 

"You  just  said  it  yourself,"  said  Willard,  grin- 
ning. 

"That's    different."      Martin    glared    fero- 


ONIONS!  179 

ciously.  "  You  're  just  trying  to  make  me  sick 
again ! '  * 

"Oh,  be  good,"  answered  the  other  humoringly. 
"Tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Mart.  I'll  go  over  to  the 
drug  store  and  get  you  some  soda-mints  right 
after  dinner." 

Martin  looked  slightly  mollified  for  an  instant. 
Then  he  asked  suspiciously:  "Do  they  taste 
awful?" 

"N— no,  not  very.  Come  along  to  dinner. 
You'd  better  try  to  eat  something,  even  if  you 
don't  feel  hungry." 

"Well,  all  right,  but  I  know  I  can't  eat." 


CHAPTER  XV 

MAKTIN    CALLS   QUITS 

FROM  his  own  table,  by  craning  his  neck,  Willard 
could  see  Martin's,  and  it  was  apparent  that  the 
latter  was  not  making  much  of  a  meal.  Bob,  who 
sat  at  his  left,  was  plainly  sympathetic  and  solic- 
itous :  Willard  could  see  Bob  passing  the  spinach 
and  urging  his  neighbor  to  eat,  and  could  see 
Martin's  dismal  refusal.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
Martin  partook  only  of  a  little  soup  and  a  dish 
of  rice  pudding  that  the  malady  returned  to  him 
less  severely  after  the  noon  meal.  Willard  kept 
his  promise  and  procured  a  small  bottle  of  soda- 
mint  tablets,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  day  Martin's 
expression  was  one  of  supreme  disgust  as  he 
continuously  dissolved  the  tablets  in  his  mouth. 
The  remedy  at  least  allowed  him  to  take  an  active 
part  in  practice,  which  was  fortunate  since  he 
was  given  a  try-out  at  left  tackle.  He  was  a  bit 
slow  at  first,  but,  with  Mr.  Cade  constantly  urg- 
ing, he  showed  quite  a  lot  of  speed  toward  the 
end  of  the  practice.  He  confessed  to  Willard 

180 


MARTIN  CALLS  QUITS  181 

later  that  he  might  have  done  better  if  the  onion 
smell  hadn't  bothered  him.  "It  came  on  in  the 
locker  room,"  he  said.  "I  didn't  notice  it  until 
I  was  changing.  Then  I  got  it  strong  and  it 
stayed  with  me  all  the  time.  I— I  get  it  yet,  but 
it's  not  so  bad." 

"It  must  be  your  imagination,"  said  Willard. 
"Ever  troubled  like  this  before?  I  say,  Mart, 
there  isn't — isn't  any—" 

"Any  what?" 

"Well,  any — er — insanity  in  your  family,  is 
there?" 

"Don't  be  a  silly  fool!"  begged  Martin. 

"I  just  thought  that  maybe—" 

"Listen  here,  Brand!  There's  no  imagination 
about  it.  I've  been  poisoned." 

"Poisoned!"  gasped  Willard.  Martin  nodded 
gravely. 

"Yes,  I've  got  it  all  doped  out.  I've  been  onion 
poisoned." 

"But  onions  aren't— aren't  poisonous,"  expos- 
tulated Willard. 

"Maybe  not  to  some  folks,  but  they  are  to  me," 
Martin  spoke  with  conviction.  "What  happened 
is  just  this.  That  night  we  went  to  the  lunch- 
cart  the  place  was  full  of  onion  odor.  Remember ?. 
Well,  I  breathed  a  lot  of  it  into  my  system  and  it 


182  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

poisoned  me.  It's  in  my  blood  probably.  If  I'm 
not  all  right  tomorrow  I'm  going  to  see  a 
doctor." 

Willard  considered  the  theory  for  a  moment  and 
then  gravely  acknowledged  that  there  might  be 
something  in  it. 

''You  bet  there  is,"  Martin  assured  him. 
"Why,  it  stands  to  reason.  Look  what  chloro- 
form does.  It  gets  into  your  blood  when  you  in- 
hale it,  doesn't  it?  Well,  it's  the  same  way  with 
onions.  Some  folks  aren't  affected  by  it,  but  I'm 
different.  I  guess  a  doctor  would  be  mighty  in- 
terested in  my  case."  Martin  paused  to  consider 
the  idea  and  then  went  on  proudly.  "Yes,  sir, 
I'll  bet  he  would!  I'll  bet  he'd  write  about  me  to 
the— the  medical  association!" 

UI  dare  say,"  assented  Willard.  "Maybe  it 
would  get  in  the  New  York  papers,  too.  'Pois- 
oned by  Onions!  Strange  Case  of  Young  Pre- 
paratory School  Student  Puzzles  the  Medical 
Fraternity!'  Maybe  they'd  print  your  picture, 
Mart." 

"You  can  make  a  silly  joke  of  it  if  you  like," 
said  Martin,  "but  I'll  bet  I'm  right!" 

Joe  and  Bob  came  up  to  the  room  that  night 
and  Martin  explained  his  theory  again  for  their 
benefit.  He  was  undergoing  another  visitation  of 


MARTIN  CALLS  QUITS  183 

the  onion  malady,  but  interest  in  his  case  and  in 
his  solution  of  it  gave  him  strength  to  bear  up 
better  than  usual.  Joe  and  Bob — Bob  especially 
— were  tremendously  impressed  with  the  theory 
and  Bob  recalled  having  read  of  a  similar  case. 
''Only,"  he  said,  "in  that  case  the  man  had  been 
poisoned  by  eating  watercress." 

"Eating  what?"  asked  Martin  incredulously. 

"Watercress,"  repeated  Bob.  "It  doesn't  af- 
fect most  people,  but  some  fellows  can't  eat  it  at 
all.  You've  heard  that,  haven't  you,  Joe?" 

"Yes,"  Joe  assented  soberly.  "I  had  a  cousin 
like  that.  Watercress  and  strawberries  were  like 
poison  to  him." 

Martin  looked  from  Joe  to  Bob  suspiciously, 
but  they  were  so  evidently  in  earnest  that  he 
asked:  "What  happened  to  this  fellow?" 

"Why,  he  ate  watercress  and  was  poisoned.  It 
got  into  his  blood,  you  know,  and  the  only  way 
they  could  save  his  life  was  by  transfusion." 

"What's  that?  You  mean  pumping  someone 
else's  blood  into  him?" 

"Sure!  That's  the  only  thing  possible  in  ex- 
treme cases." 

Martin  hurriedly  produced  his  bottle  and 
popped  a  soda-mint  into  his  mouth.  "Well,  I 
guess  onions  wouldn't  do  that  to  a  fellow,"  he 


184  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

said  with  a  confidence  that  didn't  quite  ring  true. 
"Would  you  think  so,  Joe?" 

" Search  me,"  replied  Joe  comfortingly.  "I 
never  heard  of  onion  poisoning  before." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Bob  troubledly.  "I  guess  it's  a 
pretty  rare  disease,  and  maybe  the  doctors  don't 
understand  it  yet.  Guess  it's  sort  of  like  sleep- 
ing sickness,"  he  added  blandly. 

Martin  shot  a  hostile  and  wary  look  at  him,  but 
Bob  only  smiled  sympathetically  and  reached  out 
his  hand.  "Let's  see  one  of  those  tablets,  Mart," 
he  requested.  "I've  got  a  sort  of  a  heavy  feeling 
myself  tonight." 

"You  don't  notice  the  taste  of  onions,  do  you?" 
asked  Martin  hopefully  as  he  tossed  the  bottle 
across  the  table. 

"N — no,  not  exactly.  More  a  sort  of  gone  sen- 
sation. I  guess  it  was  the  baked  potato  I  ate." 
He  took  some  time  to  get  a  tablet  out,  under 
cover  of  the  table;  so  long  that  Martin  said  im* 
patiently:  "Shake  the  bottle.  They're  probably 
stuck. ' ' 

"I've  got  it,  thanks."  Bob  popped  a  tablet 
into  his  mouth,  made  a  wry  face,  screwed  the 
cover  on  the  bottle  again  and  tossed  it  back. 
"Nasty  tasting  things,  aren't  they?"  he  asked. 

"You  get  used  to  them  after  awhile,"  replied 


MARTIN  CALLS  QUITS  185 

Martin  consolingly.  "I  guess  I've  eaten  twenty 
of  them  today.  When  you  have  blood  trans — •. 
whatever  it  is,  Bob,  how  do  you  do  it?  I  mean, 
where  do  you  get  the  blood?" 

"Advertise,  I  think.  It  isn't  easy,  of  course, 
because  the  other  fellow,  the  one  who  gives  the 
new  blood,  has  to  be  pretty  healthy.  Lots 
of  times  you  can't  find  anyone  and  it's  no 
use." 

"What  happens  then?"  inquired  Martin  un- 
easily. 

Bob  shrugged.  "The  patient  dies,  of  course. 
You  hear  of  it  very  often." 

Martin  gulped  and  almost  swallowed  his  tablet. 
"Gee!  I  guess  I'd  find  someone  if  I  had  to,"  he 
said.  "Maybe,  though,  it'&  more  imagination 
than  anything  with  me.  You  know  you  can  im- 
agine all  sorts  of  things,  and  I  guess  onions 
wouldn't  be  very  hard,  eh?" 

"N — no,"  said  Joe,  "but  I  have  a  hunch  that 
you're  theory  is  about  right,  Mart.  It  certainly 
sounds  mighty  reasonable  to  me." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  make  that  out,"  replied 
Martin  shortly.  "If  it  was  really  a  case  of — of 
being  poisoned  I  guess  I'd  be  a  lot  worse  now  than 
I  am.  It's  been  going  on  two  days,  and  anyone 
knows  that  poison  acts  pretty  quick." 


186  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Some  poisons,"  answered  Bob  significantly. 
"But  there  are  others  that  act— er— very  slowly. 
There's  hemp,  for  instance." 

" That's  a  rope,"  said  Martin  derisively. 

"It's  a  very  deadly  poison,"  said  Bob 
sternly,  "and  it's  very — very — what's  the  word, 
Joe?" 

"Lingering?"  asked  Joe. 

"Insidious,"  suggested  Willard. 

"Insidious,  that's  it!  Sometimes  the  patient 
suffers  for  weeks." 

"Well,  I  haven't  eaten  any  hemp,"  said  Martin 
crossly.  "I  haven't  eaten  anything,  confound  it! 
I'm  mighty  near  starved!  Maybe  that's  what  the 
trouble  is.  If  it  wasn't  so  late  I'd  go  out  and  get 
a  sandwich  or  a  piece  of  pie  or  something." 

"What  you  need  is  hearty  food,"  said  Bob.  "A 
nice  steak  and  onions,  for  instance." 

"Shut  up!  I  hope  you  choke!"  Martin  fairly 
gibbered.  "I  wish  you  had  it!  I  wish  you 
all  had  it,  you  gang  of  grinning  apes!  You 
make  me  sick!"  In  proof  of  the  latter 
assertion  he  shuddered  violently,  hurriedly  pro- 
duced his  bottle  of  soda-mint  tablets  and,  keep- 
ing his  lips  very  tightly  closed,  agitatedly  un- 
screwed the  top.  The  others  watched  with  al- 
most painful  intensity.  Martin  inverted  the  bot- 


MAETIN  CALLS  QUITS  187. 

tie,  seized  a  tablet  and  popped  it  into  his  mouth* 
Instantly  a  strange,  haunted  look  came  over  his 
face.  He  swallowed  once,  his  eyes  round  and 
alarmed,  and  then  the  tablet  came  out  of  his  mouth 
even  quicker  than  it  had  gone  in  and  he  laid  hands 
on  his  stomach  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"What  is  it!"  asked  Bob  anxiously.  "Feeling 
sick,  Mart?'* 

"Sick!  I— I'm  dying!  They-they're  full  of 
it!" 

"What  are?    Full  of  what?"  asked  Joe. 

"The  tablets."  Martin  opened  his  eyes  slowly, 
and  gazed  in  horror  at  the  questioner.  "They're 
full  of— of  onion!  Oh,  gee!" 

"Nonsense,"  said  Bob  cheerfully.  "How  could 
they  be?  Let's  see  them."  Martin  weakly 
brought  them  forth  from  his  pocket  and  held  them 
out  with  averted  head.  Bob  removed  the  lid  and 
held  the  bottle  to  his  nose.  "I  don't  smell  any- 
thing," he  said.  "Do  you,  Brand?" 

"Not  a  thing,"  replied  Willard  gravely.  "You 
try,  Joe." 

"Well,  there's  a  faint — ah — medicinal  odor 
apparent,"  said  Joe  judicially,  "but  as  for 
onions—" 

"Let  me  smell,"  demanded  Martin.  He  took 
the  bottle  and  put  it  to  his  nostrils.  Then  it  went 


188  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

flying  across  the  room  and  its  contents  rolled 
merrily  about  the  floor.  "It  is!"  he  yelled. 
"They  are!  Can't  you  fellows  smell  it?" 

"Look  here,  Martin,"  responded  Joe  sternly. 
"You'd  better  pull  yourself  together,  old  man. 
It  won't  do  to  let  this— this  hallucination  go  too 
far.  Better  get  into  bed  and  try  to  forget  about 
onions.  Maybe  a  good  night's  rest  is  what  you 
need.  In  the  morning  I'd  have  a  talk  with  the 
doctor.  Of  course  your  trouble  may  not  be  seri- 
ous, Mart.  I  dare  say  if  you  take  it  in  time  you 
can  be  cured.  But  I'd  feel  a  whole  lot  easier  if 
you  saw  a  doctor,  old  man." 

Martin's  expression  of  glowering  distaste 
changed  slightly.  He  stared  in  growing  fascina- 
tion at  Bob. 

"It  might  be,"  continued  the  latter  kindly, 
"that  you've  been  bitten  by  the  Diptera  onion- 
ensis,  otherwise  known  as  the  onion-fly.  Of 
course,  it  isn't  probable,  but  you  never  can  tell, 
Mart.  There's  the  tse-tse  fly,  now.  You  wouldn't 
expect  to  find  that  around  here,  but  I've  been 
told  that  it  is  quite  common.  Then  why  not  the 
onion-fly?" 

Martin's  gaze  was  fixed  on  Bob  and  Martin's 
mouth  was  slowly  dropping  open.  He  was  like 
pne  who  is  seeing  a  Great  Light  and  who  is  still 


MARTIN  CALLS  QUITS  189 

too  dazed  by  its  refulgence  for  speech.  Bob 
smiled  gently  and  continued,  keeping,  however, 
perhaps  unintentionally,  the  table  between  him 
and  Martin. 

4 'You've  been  so  awfully  sympathetic  about  my 
sleeping  sickness,  Mart,  that  I  just  can't  bear  to 
see  you  troubled  like  this.  It  would  certainly  be 
a  load  off  my  mind  if  you'd  just  talk  things  over 
with  the  doctor — " 

"You  did  it!"  hissed  Martin.  "You — you 
played  a  trick  on  me!" 

"Why,  Mart,"  protested  Bob  in  hurt  tones. 
"How  can  you  sit  there  and  say  them  cruel 
words t" 

Martin  glared  wildly  about  him.  Joe  was  so 
entirely  overcome  by  some  emotion  that  he  had 
his  head  in  his  hands  and  Willard  was  gasping, 
perhaps  with  pain,  his  countenance  hidden  behind 
a  propped-up  book.  Martin  swallowed  hard  once, 
drew  his  feet  beneath  him  and  then  was  out  of  his 
chair  with  a  roar. 

"I'll  onion  you!"  he  shouted.    "Pll— I'll— " 

Around  the  table  they  plunged,  hurdling  Joe's 
legs,  since  that  youth  was  too  helpless  to  draw 
them  back,  twirling  Willard  around  in  his  chair 
like  a  chip  in  a  maelstrom  as  they  passed,  Bob  a 
half  circuit  to  the  good  at  the  end  of  each  lap. 


190  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Noise  and  confusion  reigned  supreme,  but  through 
it  came  Bob's  voice,  made  faint  by  laughter: 

"For  the  love  of  Mike,  Mart,  use  discretion!" 

Martin's  invariable  reply  was  a  savage  howl 
of  wrath. 

On  the  tenth  circuit — or  perhaps  it  was  the 
eleventh!— disaster  overtook  the  pursued.  Bob 
slipped  coming  into  the  backstretch  and  went 
down,  and  Martin  hurled  himself  on  him.  Over 
and  over  they  went,  grunting,  gasping,  gurgling. 
^Willard  rescued  the  lamp  just  before  the  table 
went  over  on  top  of  the  battlers,  showering  them 
with  books  and  papers.  Had  Bob  been  in  his 
best  form  that  contest  would  have  been  brief,  for 
he  was  bigger  and  stronger  than  his  antagonist, 
but  laughter  drugged  him  and  before  he  could  cry 
for  mercy  Martin  had  thumped  his  head  many 
times  on  the  rug  and  jounced  merrily  up  and  down 
on  his  ribs.  When,  at  last,  Martin  drew  off  and 
Bob  climbed  weakly  to  his  feet  the  room  was  a 
wreck  and  over  the  scene  hung,  like  a  horrible 
miasma,  the  sickening  concentrated  odor  of 
onions ! 

Martin  sniffed  and  would  have  flung  himself  on 
Bob  again  if  the  latter  had  not  pointed  beseech- 
ingly to  the  floor.  Martin  looked  and  picked  up 
the  stoppered  remains  of  a  broken  bottle.  To  it 


MAETIN  CALLS  QUITS  191 

elung  a  paper  label.    "Onion  Extract,"  he  read. 

When  peace,  if  not  complete  order,  had  been 
restored  Bob  confessed.  "I  gave  you  fair  warn- 
ing, Mart,"  he  said.  "I  told  you  I'd  get  even. 
Trouble  with  you  is  you  think  you  invented  jok- 
ing and  that  no  one  else  can  get  away  with  it.  I 
got  the  idea  that  night  when  you  turned  up  your 
nose  at  the  onions  in  the  lunch-cart.  I  paid  the 
cook  a  quarter  for  that  bottle  of  onion  extract 
and  the  rest  was  easy.  All  I  had  to  do  was  get 
to  table  long  enough  ahead  of  you  to  drop  a  little 
of  the  stuff  around :  on  your  napkin,  in  your  por- 
ridge, in  your  salt-cellar  and  so  on.  I  was  clever 
enough  not  to  be  too  generous  with  it,  you  know- 
Once,  when  you  were  looking  the  other  way,  I 
got  some  on  your  meat,  and  another  time  in  your 
coffee.  Yesterday  I  sprinkled  a  good  big  lot  on 
your  football  togs.  Maybe  you  noticed  it?" 

Martin  said:  "Hm!"  grimly. 

"I  tried  to  get  Brand  to  put  some  on  your 
toothbrush  and  your  pillow,  but  he  was  too  tender- 
hearted," added  Bob.  Martin  turned  a  sorrow- 
fully accusing  look  on  Willard.  "And  that's 
that,"  Bob  ended,  smilingly. 

"Huh,"  said  Martin  this  time,  scornfully.  "I 
knew  all  along  it  was  just  some  silly  joke!" 

"Oh,  no,  you  didn't,  pettie!    Anyhow,  we'll 


192  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

call  it  quits  now  if  you  like.  I'm  satisfied  if  you 
are.  Only,  Mart,  no  more  'tse-tse  flies'  and 
'sleeping  sickness'  stuff.  My  health  is  very  good, 
thank  you,  and  if  you  want  a  place  on  the  team, 
son,  you  get  out  and  earn  it ! " 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  Bob,"  answered  Martin, 
grinning.  "Johnny  told  me  today  I  was  to  play 
left  tackle  after  this.  So  I  don 't  care  whether  you 
have  sleeping  sickness  or  not!"  Then,  after  a 
perceptible  pause,  he  added:  "Much!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DIPLOMACY 

MARTIN'S  statement  that  he  had  been  assigned  to 
left  tackle  position  was  not  believed  very  implic- 
itly that  night,  although,  in  the  press  of  other 
matters  demanding  discussion,  none  expressed 
doubt.  But  the  next  day  proved  that  Martin  had 
spoken  no  more  than  the  truth,  for  when  the 
scrimmage  commenced  he  was  in  Leroy's  place, 
and  there  he  stayed  not  only  for  the  rest  of  the 
day  but  for  the  rest  of  the  season.  At  left  half, 
Willard  and  Mawson  each  served,  the  latter 
yielding  to  Willard  near  the  end  of  the  practice. 
The  second  team  managed  a  field-goal  that  after- 
noon, but  the  first  scored  three  touchdowns  and 
for  once  showed  plenty  of  punch. 

With  Lake  at  left  end  and  Martin  Proctor  at 
left  tackle,  that  side  of  the  line  improved  re- 
markably. For  a  few  days  Martin  fitted  none  too 
perfectly  into  the  new  position,  but  he  had  had 
much  experience,  wanted  badly  to  be  something 
better  than  a  second-choice  player  and  worked 

193 


194  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

hard,  with  the  result  that  long  before  the  Kenly 
game  he  was  looked  on  as  a  remarkably  good 
tackle.  The  weak  spot  in  the  team  continued, 
however,  for  no  satisfactory  alternative  to  Steve 
Browne  had  been  found.  Browne  tried  pitifully 
hard  to  fill  the  difficult  requirements  of  the  full- 
back position,  but  he  failed  utterly  and  palpably. 
Linthicum  was  tried,  and  so  was  Austen,  a  half- 
back from  the  second,  but  none  suited.  Kenly 
was  developing  a  stiff  line  this  year,  as  proved 
by  the  last  two  games  she  had  played,  and  more 
weight  and  aggressiveness  in  the  backfield  was 
sorely  needed  at  Alton.  Discounting  his  possible 
ultimate  failure  to  find  a  satisfactory  full-back, 
Coach  Cade  experimented  with  plays  built  on  the 
substituting  of  Bob  Newhall  or  Stacey  Ross  for 
a  half  or  the  full-back.  The  difficulty,  however, 
lay  in  the  fact  that  the  backfield  man  who  played 
up  in  the  line  found  it  hard  to  perform  his  tem- 
porary duties  satisfactorily.  Placing  Bob  at  full- 
back for  straight  plunges  between  tackles  worked 
fairly  well  and  was  accountable  for  some  good 
gains  against  the  second  team,  but  Browne  in 
Bob's  place  was  as  ill-fitting  as  a  square  peg  in  a 
round  hole  and  would  doubtless  prove  in  Captain 
Joe  Myers'  words,  "easy  meat"  for  Kenly. 
Coach  Cade  had  a  strongly-imbedded  dislike  for 


DIPLOMACY  195 

unbalanced  formations,  anyhow,  and,  although  he 
used  shifts  sparingly  and  was  responsible  for  the 
play  that  put  Captain  Myers  behind  the  line  so 
that  he  might  receive  a  forward-pass,  he  wanted 
no  more  "freaks"  and  frowned  on  these  new  in- 
ventions even  while  he  used  them.  And  so  mat- 
ters stood  on  that  Wednesday  morning  preced- 
ing the  Hillsport  game  when  Willard,  having  a 
whole  fifty  minutes  between  recitations,  took  a 
Latin  book  over  to  the  first  base  bleachers  and 
draped  himself  over  three  seats  in  the  sunlight. 
It  was  a  genuine  Indian  summer  day,  with  no 
breeze,  or  only  just  enough  to  disturb  the  straight 
column  of  smoke  that  came  from  the  big  chimney 
behind  Lawrence  Hall,  a  very  blue  sky  that  melted 
to  a  hazy,  purplish  gray  toward  the  horizon  and 
a  flood  of  mellow  sunlight  over  all.  By  occasion- 
ally changing  his  position  when  the  edges  of  the 
planks  pressed  too  fervently  against  him,  Willard 
managed  a  whole  page  of  his  book,  making  many 
marginal  notes  in  his  very  small  and  extremely 
neat  writing.  He  was,  though,  getting  somewhat 
drowsy  when  the  sound  of  footsteps  came  to  him 
and  he  looked  up  to  find  Felix  McNatt  approach- 
ing. McNatt  had  soiled  hands  and  wore  a  tri- 
umphant expression,  and  both  were  explained 
when,  having  climbed  to  Willard 's  side  and  seated 


196  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

himself  there,  he  lifted  the  wooden  lid  of  the 
grape  basket  he  carried. 

"Agaricus  pratensis,"  he  announced  impres- 
sively. 

"The  same  to  you,'*  answered  Willard,  "and 
many,  many  of  them." 

McNatt  smiled  humoringly.  "I  found  them 
over  near  the  farm.  They  are  rather  scarce  about 
here." 

Willard  eyed  the  contents  of  the  basket  un- 
enthusiastically. The  five  mushrooms  made  very 
little  appeal  to  him  and  he  hoped  McNatt  wasn't 
going  to  ask  him  to  help  eat  them.  "Are  they 
edible?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"Oh,  yes,  although  my  book  says  they're  not 
so  tasty  as  many  other  sorts." 

"They  don't  look  awfully  appetizing,"  mur- 
mured Willard.  "Do  you  cook  them  or 
what?" 

"They're  excellent  fried,"  replied  McNatt, 
gazing  almost  affectionately  into  the  basket.  "Or 
you  can  stew  them  in  milk." 

"No,  thanks."  Willard  shook  his  head.  "I 
don't  like  the  smell  of  them.  They— they  smell 
as  if  they  were  dead!" 

"Of  course  they're  dead,"  said  McNatt  a  trifle 
impatiently.  "Or  I  suppose  they  are.  Possibly 


DIPLOMACY  197 

they  continue  to  live  for  a  certain  time  after  they 
are  picked:  I  must  find  out  about  that:  it  would 
be  interesting  to  know." 

"Very,"  agreed  Willard  politely.  "Are  you 
going  to  eat  them?" 

To  his  great  relief,  McNatt  shook  his  head. 
"No,  there  aren't  enough  to  make  a  mess." 

"Aren't  there?  I  should  think  those  would 
make  a  mess  all  right,  a  beastly  mess!" 

McNatt  smiled,  even  chuckled.  "I  fancy  you 
aren't  a  mushroom  lover,"  he  said.  "You  wait, 
though.  Some  time  I'll  get  a  fine  lot  of  puff-balls 
and  we'll  have  a  feast.  You'll  change  your  mind 
then." 

"Maybe  I'll  change  more  than  that,"  said  Wil- 
lard sadly.  "Maybe  I'll  change  my  habitation. 
Lots  of  folks  have  gone  to  heaven  after  eating 
mushrooms,  haven't  they?" 

"No,  not  mushrooms,"  said  McNatt,  "toad- 
stools. There's  a  difference."  He  covered  the 
basket  again,  set  it  carefully  between  his  feet  and 
gazed  in  silence  for  a  moment  across  the  field. 
Presently:  "You  are  on  the  football  team,  aren't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Willard,  "sort  of.  I'm  a  substi- 
tute half." 

"What  sort  of  a  team  have  we  got  this  year?" 


198  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Pretty  fair,  I  think.  Haven't  you  seen  them 
play?" 

"I  saw  part  of  the  first  game,  but  you  can't 
tell  much  about  a  team  so  early.  I  haven't  fol- 
lowed it  very  closely  since  then." 

"Well,  we're  sort  of  getting  together,  I  guess," 
said  Willard.  "There  have  been  a  good  many 
changes  made  and  so  the  team  isn't  playing  to- 
gether awfully  smoothly  yet.  Mr.  Cade's  having 
a  lot  of  trouble  finding  a  full-back." 

"A  full-back?  Is  that  so?"  McNatt  seemed 
rather  more  interested  than  previously.  "What's 
wrong  there,  Harmon?" 

Willard  explained  as  best  he  could  and  McNatt 
nodded  assent.  "He's  right,"  he  declared.  "To 
my  way  of  thinking  the  full-back  is  the  most  im- 
portant man  on  the  team.  He's  got  to  be  strong 
and  clever  and  have  enough  weight  to  carry  him 
through  the  first  defense.  I  don't  bank  much  on 
the  very  heavy  sort,  though.  They  generally  lack 
the  proper  mental  attributes.  Do  you  know,  Har- 
mon, it's  strange  to  me  that  scientists  have  never 
made  a  thorough  study  of  the  relation  of  mind 
quality  to  body  formation.  Now  take  a  type  of 
fellow  who  is  big  of  torso  and  neck;  large  above 
the  waist,  you  understand;  probably  he  will  have 
a  large  head,  too ;  most  of  them  do.  That  f ellow; 


DIPLOMACY  199 

'will  be  a  persistent,  hard  fighter  when  he's  started 
and  he  will  have  good  sound  judgment.  But  he 
won't  be  resourceful  and  he  won't  be  capable  of 
quick  decision.  See  what  I  mean?  I  believe 
that  a  thorough  study  of  the  subject  would  enable 
anyone  to  tell  a  man's  mental  character  off-hand 
by  observing  his  physical  construction." 

"You'd  better  come  out  this  afternoon  and  look 
over  the  substitutes,"  laughed  Willard.  " Maybe 
you  could  pick  out  a  full-back  for  Mr.  Cade." 

"Full-backs,"  answered  McNatt  solemnly,  "are 
very  scarce.  Good  ones,  I  mean.  I  remember  that 
when  I  played  here  two  or  three  years  ago  it  was 
difficult  to  find  a  satisfactory  substitute." 

"It  isn't  a  substitute  that's  bothering  this 
year,"  said  Willard  ruefully,  "it's  the  real  thing. 
Where  did  you  play,  McNatt  f  I  mean  what  po- 
sition. ' ' 

"Full-back,"  answered  the  other  gravely. 

"Full-back!" 

"Yes,  I  played  there  my  first  year  off  and  on, 
although  I  was  only  fifteen.  I  was  large  for  my 
age,  though.  The  next  year  I  played  the  position 
until  I  was  taken  sick.  After  that  I  sort  of  fell 
out  of  the  game.  Well,  I  must  get  back."  He 
picked  up  his  basket,  nodded  and  went  striding 
toward  Upton. 


200  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Willard  watched  him  go  thoughtfully.  After 
a  minute,  though,  he  tucked  his  pencil  into  a 
pocket,  seized  his  book  and  hurried  across  to 
Lykes.  Luck  was  with  him  when  he  knocked  at 
Number  2  and  entered.  Joe  was  propped  up  on 
the  window-seat,  half  hidden  by  a  newspaper. 

" Hello,  Brand,"  he  said.  " What's  on  your 
mind?" 

"More  than  is  on  yours,  I  guess,"  answered 
Willard  meaningly. 

Joe  laughed.  " Think  so?  Well,  that's  the  first 
paper  I've  seen  in  a  week.  I  was  looking  over 
the  Saturday  games.  Yale's  coming  back  all 
right,  isn't  she?  That  fellow  Loughlin  who  played 
left  tackle  for  awhile  is  an  Alton  fellow.  Wasn't 
considered  much  good  here,  though,  as  I  re- 
member." 

"Say,  Joe,  suppose  a  fellow  played  football  this 
year  and  then  didn't  play  for  two  years  more. 
Would  he  be  any  good?" 

"Good  for  what?" 

"Football.  I  mean,  could  he— could  he  come 
back?" 

"Oh!  I  don't  know,  Brand.  I  guess  it  would 
depend  on  the  fellow.  Aren't  thinking  of  giving 
up  the  game,  are  you?" 

"No.    Look  here,  Joe,  suppose  a  fellow  was  a 


DIPLOMACY  201 

corking  good  full-back  three  years  ago  and  then 
didn't  play  any  more.  Suppose  he  was  to  go  back 
to  the  game  tomorrow.  How  long  would  it  take 
him  to — to  remember  what  he'd  forgotten  and — 
and  find  himself  again?" 

" Brand,  it's  too  early  in  the  day  for  hypothet- 
ical questions,"  replied  Joe,  stretching  and 
yawning.  "It  would  depend  on  so  many  things, 
boy :  on  how  well  the  chap  had  kept  himself  in  con- 
dition, principally.  Got  any  fellow  in  mind,  or 
are  you  just  doing  this  for  exercise?" 

"I've  got  someone  in  mind,"  .answered  Wil- 
lard  earnestly.  "There's  a  chap  here  who  used 
to  play  football  three  years  ago,  and  from  what 
he  says  he  must  have  been  pretty  good.  Any- 
way, he  was  regular  full-back  on  the  team.  Then 
he  was  taken  sick  and  had  to  quit,  and  he  never 
went  back." 

"Who's  that?"  demanded  Joe,  sitting  up. 

"McNatt,"  answered  Willard. 

"McNatt!  Oh,  I  thought  you'd  discovered 
someone,  Brand.  I  guess  McNatt 's  a  joke." 

"He  did  play,  though,  didn't  he?"  Willard 
persisted. 

Joe  nodded.  "Yes,  he  did,  and  that's  a  fact." 
He  paused  and  kicked  thoughtfully  at  the  paper 
on  the  floor.  "He  played  all  one  year,  I  think, 


202  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

either  on  the  second  or  on  the  first  as  substitute. 
The  first  year  I  was  here  he  played  for  awhile. 
That  was  his  second  year.  Seems  to  me  he 
stopped  about  the  middle  of  the  season.  I  don't 
remember  much  about  him,  though.  But,  great 
gosh,  the  fellow's  no  football  man!  Just— just 
look  at  him!" 

"He's  out  of  training,  of  course,"  agreed  Wil- 
lard,  "but  seems  to  me  if  he  was  good  enough  to 
be  regular  full-back  three  years  ago  he  might  be 
worth  trying  now." 

"That's  so,  Brand!  Look  here,  you  tell  him  to 
come  on  out  and  we'll  give  him  a  fair  show,  as 
late  as  it  is.  It  would  be  worth  a  dollar  of  any 
fellow's  money  to  see  McNutt  playing  football!" 

Willard  shook  his  head.  "I'm  not  sure  he'd 
do  it,  Joe." 

"Why  not?    What's  the  idea!" 

"Well,  I  don't  believe  he  cares  for  it  any  more. 
He's  a  funny  duck,  McNatt.  I  guess  it  would 
take  a  lot  of  persuasion  to  get  him  back." 

"But  I  thought  from  what  you  said  that  he 
wanted  to  try  it,"  said  Joe,  puzzled.  "What  does 
he  want?" 

"To  be  let  alone,  I  think,"  answered  Willard, 
smiling.  "No,  the  idea  was  mine,  Joe.  McNatt 
hasn't  any  more  ambition  to  play  football  than 


DIPLOMACY  203 

I  have  to— to  collect  mushrooms!  But  when  he 
told  me  about  having  played  full-back  I  remem- 
bered that  we  are  hard  up  for  a  fellow  for  that 
position,  and  so  I  came  over  here  to  speak  to  you 
about  it." 

"Well,  dog  my  cats,"  exploded  Joe,  "if  the 
fellow  can  play  football  it's  his  duty  to  do  it! 
Doesn't  he  know  that?  Where  is  he?  I'll  have 
a  talk  with  him.  I  don't  suppose  he's  worth  both- 
ering with,  but  there's  always  a  chance!  And 
we  can't  afford  to  miss  it!" 

"What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him?"  asked 
Willard. 

"Say  to  him?  Why,  that  we  need  his  services, 
of  course.  I'll  tell  him  that  if  he  shows  up  de- 
cently he  will  stand  a  good  chance  of  playing 
against  Kenly.  I  guess  that  ought  to  fetch  him." 

"That  might  'fetch  some  fellows,  Joe,  but  I'm 
afraid  it  wouldn't  fetch  McNatt."  Willard  shook 
his  head  gently.  "I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  guess 
he's  about  as  stubborn  as  they  make  them.  You 
know  you  can  tell  a  lot  about  a  fellow's — er — 
character  by  his  physical  formation,  Joe,  and  Mc- 
Natt's  got  long  legs  and— and  everything." 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  an- 
swered the  other  impatiently,  "but,  stubborn  or 
not,  he  will  play  football  if  I  get  after  him!" 


204  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"All  right."  Willard  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"If  I  were  you,  though,  I'd  go  at  him  sort  of 
easy." 

"Oh,  I'll  be  easy  enough,"  said  Joe  untrou- 
bledly.  "He's  in  Upton,  isn't  he?  What's  the 
number?  Forty-nine!"  Joe  looked  at  his  watch 
and  got  to  his  feet.  "I've  got  twenty  minutes  be- 
fore French.  I'll  run  over  and  see  him.  Of 
course  nothing  will  come  of  it,  though.  A  fellow 
who's  been  out  of  training  as  long  as  he  has  can't 
come  back  in  three  or  four  weeks.  Besides,  I 
dare  say  he's  forgotten  all  the  football  he  ever 
knew." 

Willard  parted  with  Joe  at  the  entrance.  "Good 
luck, ' '  he  called  as  Joe  went  off.  * '  Try  diplomacy 
first,  Joe!" 

Joe  smiled  back  confidently  and  waved  a  care- 
less hand. 

It  was  not  until  he  reached  the  gymnasium  in 
the  afternoon  that  Willard  learned  the  result  of 
Joe's  visit  to  Number  49  Upton.  Joe  was  still 
angry.  "The  fellow's  a  perfect  fool,"  he  snapped 
in  reply  to  Willard 's  polite  inquiry.  "And  he's 
as  stubborn  as  a  mule !  Sat  there  and  talked  for 
ten  minutes  about  how  the  full-back  position 
ought  to  be  played  and  then  calmly  told  me  he 


DIPLOMACY  205 

wouldn't  try  for  the  team  for  a  thousand 
dollars!" 

"And  then  you  bullied  him,"  laughed  Willard. 

"I  told  him  what  I  thought  of  him,"  answered 
Joe  grimly.  ''He  made  me  so  blamed  mad  I 
could  have  punched  his  head.  Just  sat  there  and 
blinked  and  shook  his  silly  bean!  And  when  I'd 
flayed  him  alive  he  wanted  to  know  if  I  wouldn't 
like  to  see  his  mineral  collection.  Oh,  the  chap's 
plain  nutty!" 

"He  is  sort  of  peculiar,"  agreed  Willard 
soberly. 

"Peculiar!"  Joe  laughed  mirthlessly.  "He's 
crazy  in  the  head.  Know  what  I  think?  Well,  he 
showed  me  a  lot  of  mushrooms  he  had  there; 
nasty,  smelly  things  they  were,  too;  and  I'll  bet 
he  eats  'em  and  they've  affected  his  mind.  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  him!" 

"Guess  you'll  have  to  forget  it  and  just  let  him 
alone,"  said  Willard  soothingly. 

"I  can't  afford  to  let  him  alone,"  protested  Joe 
impatiently.  "Why,  gosh,  if  that  fellow  can  play 
full-back  the  way  he  can  talk  it  he  'd  be  a  wonder ! 
Look  here,  Brand,  you  see  what  you  can  do.  I 
talked  my  head  off  and  it  didn't  have  any  effect 
on  the  poor  fish.  You — you  have  a  go  at  him, 
will  jou?  And  do  it  today.  Honest,  that  fellow 


206  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

ought  to  show  whether  he's  any  good  or  not.  It's 
his  duty!  Of  course  we  can't  make  him  play,  but 
you'd  think  he'd  want  to!" 

"All  right,"  agreed  Willard,  "I'll  see  what  I 
can  do,  Joe,  but  I  haven't  much  hope.  If  your 
diplomacy  failed,  why,  I'm  not  likely  to  succeed." 

Joe  looked  at  Willard  suspiciously.  "Hang  it, 
I  was  diplomatic,"  he  protested.  "I  was  as  sweet 
as  sugar  to  him  until  he  shut  his  mouth  tight  and 
said  he  wouldn't  do  it." 

"If  he  had  his  mouth  shut,"  said  Willard,  "I 
don't  see  how  he  could  say  anything,  Joe.  Maybe 
he  hummed  it,  though?" 

"Oh,  go  to  the  dickens!"  growled  the  other. 

There  was  an  unusually  hard  and  protracted 
practice  game  that  afternoon,  and  Willard  played 
at  left  half  through  fifteen  strenuous  minutes 
during  which  the  second,  given  the  ball  over  and 
over  to  test  the  first  team's  defense,  hammered 
and  banged  until  she  finally  got  across  the  line 
for  a  score.  Willard,  like  most  of  the  others,  got 
some  hard  knocks  and  when  he  was  released  he 
felt  very  little  ambition  for  the  task  that  Joe  had 
set  him.  But  supper  helped  a  lot,  and  at  half- 
past  seven  he  set  out  for  McNatt's  room.  Even 
when  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  Number  49  he 
hadn't  decided  what  he  was  to  say. 


DIPLOMACY  207 

Not  only  McNatt  was  in  this  evening,  but  his 
roommate,  Winfred  Fuller.  Fuller  was  a  sopho- 
more, a  smallish,  anemic-appearing  youth  who,  or 
so  Willard  fancied,  wore  a  harried,  apprehensive 
look,  as  though  life  with  McNatt 's  toads  and 
beetles  and  strange  messes  was  gradually  affect- 
ing his  mind.  Fuller  sat,  straightly  uncompro- 
mising, on  the  edge  of  a  chair  and  gazed  at  Wil- 
lard with  owlish  fixity  during  the  first  ten  min- 
utes of  the  latter 's  visit,  and  Willard  was  heart- 
ily glad  when,  muttering  some  excuse,  the  boy  took 
himself  off.  McNatt  was  most  hospitable  and 
offered  to  cook  a  few  choice  mushrooms  that  he 
had  picked  that  afternoon  under  someone 's  stable 
if  Willard  fancied  them.  But  Willard  explained 
that,  being  on  a  diet,  mushrooms  were  a  forbid- 
den luxury,  and  McNatt  was  not  offended.  After 
that  the  talk  turned  to  the  subject  of  football 
"situations"  and  McNatt  was  reminded  that  he 
had  found  the  memorandum  of  which  he  had 
spoken  on  the  occasion  of  Willard 's  last  visit,  and 
stretched  a  hand  toward  the  littered  table.  But 
unfortunately  the  paper  had  again  disappeared, 
and  although  McNatt  searched  long  and  deter- 
minedly, making  the  confusion  more  confused,  it 
refused  to  be  discovered.  Finally,  giving  up  the 
quest,  McNatt  sat  down  again,  stretching  his  long 


208  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

legs  across  the  floor  and  thrusting  a  pair  of  large, 
very  chapped  hands  into  his  pockets. 

* 'Myers  came  to  see  me  this  morning,"  he  re- 
marked placidly.  "He's  captain  of  the  football 
team  this  year.  But  you  know  him,  of  course.  I 
forgot  you  were  on  the  team,  Harmon.  Queer  fel- 
low, Myers:  awfully  obstinate  and  opinionated, 
don't  you  think?" 

"Well,  he's  likely  to  have  rather  pronounced 
views  on  any  subject  that  he's  very  much  inter- 
ested in,"  replied  Willard  cautiously.  "Football 
for  instance." 

McNatt  chuckled.  "It  was  football  he  came  to 
see  me  about.  He  wanted  me  to  play  full- 
back. It  seems  the  fellow  they've  got  isn't 
very  satisfactory.  You  told  me  that,  too,  I 
think." 

"Yes,  I  did,"  said  Willard,  "and  I'm  mighty 
glad  you're  going  to  help  us  out,  McNatt!" 

McNatt  frowned  and  shook  his  head.  "Oh,  but 
I'm  not.  I  told  Myers  I  couldn't,  you  know.  He 
—I  don't  think  he  liked  it." 

"You're  not!"  exclaimed  Willard  incredu- 
lously. "But-but  why?" 

McNatt  stared  a  moment  as  though  a  trifle  sur- 
prised. "Why,  I'm  out  of  football,  Harmon!  I 
thought  I  told  you  that.  I  haven't  played  since 


DIPLOMACY  209 

my  second  year  here.  I've  given  it  up  completely. 
You  see,  I  hadn't  any  patience  with  the  fuddling 
way  they  taught  it.  Everything's  so  hit-or-miss. 
No  science  at  all.  You  acknowledged  that  your- 
self, Harmon." 

Willard  nodded.  "Yes,  that's  true.  But,  look 
here,  McNatt,  it  seems  to  me  the  game  of  football 
needs  fellows  like  you;  fellows,  I  mean,  who — er 
—who  realize  what's  wrong  with  it  and  have  the 
— the  courage  and  brains  to  remedy  it." 

McNatt  tilted  back  and  shook  his  head  slowly. 
"They  won't  listen,  Harmon,"  he  said.  "I  tried 
Myers  today.  He  couldn't  see  what  I  meant  at 
all.  Just  got  very  impatient  and  told  me  I  was  a 
slacker.  I'm  afraid  Myers  has  a  one-track  mind, 
Harmon." 

"Joe  is  awfully  anxious  to  beat  Kenly,"  replied 
Willard,  "and  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  every 
other  fellow  is  just  like  he  is.  He  loses  sight  of 
the  fact  that  there  are  fellows  here  in  school  like 
you,  McNatt,  who  don't  give  a  whoop  whether 
Alton  wins  or  doesn't." 

McNatt  shook  his  head  almost  violently.  "You 
mustn't  say  that,"  he  protested.  "Although  not 
actively  participating  in  football  any  longer,  Har- 
mon, I  am  still  vastly  interested  in  it  and  follow 
it  very  carefully.  And,  naturally,  I  want  Alton  to 


210  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

defeat  Kenly.  Yes,  indeed,  decidedly!  Yon 
mustn't— ah — consider  me  unpatriotic." 

"Oh,"  murmured  Willard.  "I  didn't  under- 
stand. I  thought — " 

"Yes?"  encouraged  McNatt. 

"Why,  only  that,  not  being  willing  to  help  the 
School  out  by  going  back  to  the  team,  you  didn't — 
didn't  care  very  much!" 

McNatt  smiled  gently.  "I'm  afraid  you're 
rather  like  Myers,"  he  chided.  "You  can  only 
see  what's  directly  in  front  of  your  eyes.  Myers 
couldn't  understand  that  I  might  find  other  things 
more  important  than  football.  I  explained  that 
my  scientific  pursuits  meant  more  to  me  than 
playing  full-back  on  the  eleven." 

"Then  I'm  not  like  Joe,"  responded  Willard, 
smiling,  "for  I  can  understand  it.  I  suppose 
what  does  puzzle  me,  McNatt,  is  your  not  being 
willing  to  apply  your  science  to  the  bettering  of 
the  game  and  the  defeat  of  the  enemy.  Seems  to 
me  you've  got  a  big  chance  to  demonstrate  your 
theories  and  to  help  the  School  at  the  same  time.'* 

McNatt  looked  surprised.  "But  I've  explained 
that  they  won't  listen!"  he  said. 

"Don't  ask  them  to  listen,"  replied  Willard 
smilingly,  yet  very  earnestly.  "Show  them!" 

"Show  them?    You  mean—" 


DIPLOMACY  211 

"Exactly!  Go  out  and  play  fuH-back  as  it 
should  be  played.  Scientifically.  According  to 
your  ideas.  Prove  there's  something  in  it,  Mc- 
Natt.  Afterwards  you  can  talk  and  they'll 
listen." 

McNatt  drew  his  hands  from  his  trousers  pock- 
ets and  rubbed  them  thoughtfully  together.  "I 
wonder  if  it  could  be  done,"  he  muttered.  "You 
see,  Harmon,  it  isn't  the  playing  of  one  position 
that  counts,  but  the  conduct  of  the  whole  game, 
the — the  modus  operandi.  And  yet — "  He  re- 
lapsed into  silence  again. 

"Being  there,  though,  right  on  hand,  would 
help,  wouldn't  it!"  Willard  asked.  "I  mean, 
you'd  be  in  a  better  position  to  offer  your  advice 
and  aid.  And  maybe  you  might  play  full-back  so 
well  that  they'd  realize  that — that  science  has  its 
place  in  football." 

"Do  you  know,"  exclaimed  McNatt  quite  ex- 
citedly, "you  almost  persuade  me  to  try  it,  Har- 
mon !  By  golly,  you  do !  This  man  that  is  coach- 
ing this  year — I  forget  his  name— ;  is  he  the  sort 
you  can  talk  to  f  You  know  some  of  these  coaches 
are  so — so  set!  You  can't  get  them  to  listen  to 
anything  at  all ! " 

"I  don't  think  Mr.  Cade  is  that  sort,"  replied 
.Willard  reassuringly.  "I'd  say  he  was  quite  open 


212  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

to  conviction,  McNatt.  In  fact—"  and  here  Wil- 
lard  smiled  to  himself — "in  fact,  I  think  I  can 
promise  that  he  will  listen  to  anything  that  prom- 
ises success  for  the  team.  There's  one  thing, 
though,  that  might  bother  you,  old  chap.  You've 
been  out  of  training  a  good  while  and  of  course 
condition's  got  a  heap  to  do  with  playing  foot- 
ball well." 

McNatt  shook  his  head  impatiently.  "My  con- 
dition's all  right,"  he  answered.  "I'll  have  to 
read  up  on  the  new  rules,  though.  They've  made 
several  changes  since  I  played  before.  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  see  Myers  and  tell  him  I've  changed 
my  mind." 

"I've  got  a  rules  book,"  said  Willard,  "and 
I'll  bring  it  over  to  you  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  As  for  telling  Myers,  I  wouldn't  trou- 
ble. I'm  quite  likely  to  run  across  him  myself 
this  evening  and  I'll  pass  the  good  word  to  him 
if  you  like." 

"I'd  be  very  much  obliged,"  answered  McNatt 
gratefully,  "but  don't  go  out  of  your  way,  please. 
Funny  you  should  turn  up  here  tonight,  Harmon. 
I'm  glad  you  did,  though,  I  really  am.  I  wouldn't 
have  realized  what  an  opportunity  this  thing  af- 
fords me  if  you  hadn't  I" 


CHAPTER 

M'NATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM 

A  GREAT  many  years  before  the  period  of  this 
story  Alton  Academy  manufactured  its  own  illum- 
inating gas  from  gasoline  by  means  of  a  machine 
in  the  basement  of  Academy  Hall.  The  machine 
was  connected  by  pipe  with  a  gasoline  tank  set 
in  a  covered  pit  some  sixty  feet  from  the  build- 
ing. One  fine  day  there  was  trouble  with  the  gas- 
oline supply  and  one  of  the  faculty  members 
known  as  Old  Grubby  descended  into  the  pit  to 
investigate  matters.  Just  what  occurred  down 
there  was  never  known,  but  shortly  after  Old 
Grubby  disappeared  from  sight  he  reappeared 
with  vastly  more  celerity,  and  his  reappearance 
was  accompanied  by  a  violent  concussion  that 
brought  everyone  rushing  to  the  scene  or  to  the 
dormitory  windows.  A  fortunate  few  gained 
points  of  vantage  in  time  to  see  the  teacher's 
ascent  interrupted  by  the  force  of  gravitation  and 
to  watch  his  return  to  earth.  This  happened  at 
a  point  many  feet  distant  from  the  crater  that  had 
once  been  a  brick-lined  pit,  and  was  quite  spectae- 

213 


214  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

ular.  Fortunately,  aside  from  a  severe  shaking 
up,  some  contusions  and  a  nervous  shock,  Old 
Grubby  was  uninjured,  although  just  at  first  it 
seemed  to  the  horrified  spectators  that  he  had  suf- 
fered a  direful  fate,  since  he  had  gone  into  the  pit 
with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  dark  hair  on  his  head 
and  had  subsequently  descended  from  his  flight 
with  his  scalp  as  bare  and  polished  as  a  pale-pink 
billiard  ball !  None  was  more  horror-stricken  than 
the  unfortunate  gentleman  himself,  however, 
when  he  realized  his  plight.  Clapping  both  hands 
to  his  head,  he  broke  loose  from  the  solicitous  res- 
cuers and  ran  agitatedly  around  in  circles.  Such 
extraordinary  behavior  on  the  part  of  an  ordinar- 
ily sane  gentleman  was  naturally  adjudged  to  be 
the  result  of  temporary  dementia  produced  by  the 
accident,  and  so,  of  course,  all  those  who  had  ar- 
rived on  the  scene  took  up  the  chase.  Old  Grubby 
dodged  and  eluded,  giving  vent  to  inarticulate 
ejaculations  of  dismay,  and  the  chase  might  have 
continued  for  quite  a  while  had  he  not  finally,  with 
a  cry  of  relief  and  triumph,  snatched  a  brown 
object  from  a  lower  branch  of  a  tree,  clapped  it  on 
his  shining  head  and  dashed  for  his  room. 

The  incident  created  a  remarkable  sensation; 
not  so  much  that  portion  concerned  with  the  in- 
teresting explosion  of  the  gasoline  tank  as  the  re- 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM          215 

sultant  revelation.  For  many  years  Old  Grubby 
had  managed  to  deceive  the  sharpest  eyes  in  his 
classes  and  never  had  there  been  the  faintest  of 
doubts  expressed  as  to  the  naturalness  of  his 
beautiful  dark  brown  locks.  And  then  before  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  school  he  had  been  exposed! 
After  the  first  shock  of  incredulous  surprise,  Al- 
ton Academy  roared  and  rocked  with  laughter. 
Students  and  faculty  gasped  and  gurgled  fra- 
ternally, and  you  may  well  believe  that  the  spec- 
tacle of  the  Principal  seated  on  the  lower  step 
of  Academy  Hall,  swaying  rhythmically  from 
side  to  side  and  holding  his  head  in  his  hands, 
did  nothing  to  quell  the  contagion.  History  has 
it  that  at  the  end  of  that  term  Old  Grubby  re- 
signed and  took  himself  to  distant  fields  where 
his  precious  secret  was  not  known. 

Now  this  has  no  place  in  the  present  narrative 
save  as  a  prelude  to  the  statement  that  not  since 
its  occurrence  had  the  School  known  such  a  sen- 
sation as  was  caused  by  the  appearance  of  Felix 
Adelbert  McNatt  as  a  member  of  the  football 
squad ! 

McNatt  reported  on  Friday  afternoon,  clad  in 
ancient  regalia  that  included  the  disreputable 
green  sweater,  and  the  news  spread  like  wildfire. 
Society  rooms,  studies,  tennis  courts  were  de- 


216  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

serted,  and  the  stands  beside  the  gridiron  were  so 
filled  that  you  would  have  thought  the  Big  Game 
was  in  progress.  Disbelief  vanished  as  the  un- 
mistakable form  of  McNatt  was  descried  on  the 
field  and  amused  conviction  took  its  place.  "Hoo- 
ray for  McNutt!"  shrilled  an  irrepressible  fresh- 
man, and  the  audience  cheered  loudly.  "Regular 
cheer,  fellows!"  bawled  a  junior,  "with  nine  'Mc- 
Natts'!"  The  response  was  thrilling,  even  if  the 
"McNatts"  became  "McNutts"  in  the  perform- 
ance, and  after  that  the  new  candidate  had  only 
to  move  a  hand  or  a  long  leg  to  be  greeted  by 
uproarious  applause! 

"Whether  McNatt  realized  the  sensation  he  was 
producing,  or  the  nature  of  it,  I  can't  say.  At 
least,  he  gave  no  sign.  Perhaps  he  thought  that 
every  practice  witnessed  a  similar  loyal  attend- 
ance and  that  the  applause  that  fell  to  him  was 
no  more  than  was  generally  accorded.  McNatt, 
fortunately,  was  not  self-conscious  nor  sensitive. 
If  he  had  been  he  might  have  found  it  difficult  to 
perform  the  duties  set  him.  As  it  was,  he  worked 
hard  and  faithfully  and  with  surprising  ability, 
proving  at  once  that  he  had  neither  forgotten 
what  he  had  formerly  known  of  football  nor  had 
allowed  his  long  absence  from  the  game  to  put 
.him  out  of  condition.  He  tackled  the  dummy  with 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM          217 

the  rest  of  the  squad  and  showed  how  it  should 
be  tackled,  he  swung  a  clever  foot  against  the  ball 
and  got  thirty-five  yards  at  a  punt  and  he  caught 
the  returning  pigskin  with  ease  and  certainty.  In 
.short,  McNatt  that  Friday  afternoon  caused 
Coach  Cade  to  stare  and  shake  his  head  and  al- 
most rub  his  eyes  and  the  audience  along  the  side- 
lines to  change  their  laughter  to  enthusiastic,  un- 
grudging applause  before  the  practice  session  was 
ended. 

A  mere  five  minutes  with  a  squad  in  formation 
drill  taught  McNatt  the  signals  sufficiently  for  his 
purpose,  and  later,  when  the  second  team  came 
across,  filled  with  ambition  and  an  overwhelming 
desire  to  see  what  all  the  laughing  and  cheering 
was  about,  and  McNatt  was  put  in  at  full-back  on 
the  first,  why,  he  made  good  from  the  first  mo- 
ment. He  clung  doggedly  to  that  green  sweater, 
though  others  were  down  to  canvas,  and  it  shone 
resplendent  in  every  play.  Kruger,  whose  wont 
it  was  to  take  the  ball  for  the  second  and  go  rear- 
ing through  inside  or  outside  of  tackle,  saw  his 
glory  fade.  The  first  time  he  tried  it  he  ran 
straight  into  a  green  sweater.  Those  nearest 
heard  an  amazed  "Whoof!"  from  Kruger,  and 
then  he  was  borne  back  and  placed  expeditiously 
on  the  turf,  and  a  chuckling  referee  added  another 


218  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

yard  to  the  distance  to  be  gained.  But  the  best 
came  when  the  first  team,  having  wrested  the  ball 
from  a  surprised  second,  sprang  to  the  assault- 
Cochran  gained  three  past  left  guard  and  then 
Tarver  called  on  McNatt.  Gil  said  afterwards 
that  the  full-back  got  to  him  so  quick  that  he  al- 
most missed  the  pass.  Bob  and  Stacey  did  their 
part,  and  then  a  green  streak  passed  between 
them,  smashed  into  a  luckless  second  team  guardj 
caromed  off  a  tackle  and  proceeded  down  the 
field,  spurning  the  backs  much  as  a  cannon  ball 
might  treat  the  attentions  of  so  many  toy  terriers, 
and,  with  an  easy  if  ungraceful  stride,  ate  up  the 
intervening  sixty-seven  yards  and  deposited  the 
pigskin  squarely  behind  the  goal.  After  whieK 
McNatt  seated  himself  on  the  ball  and  waited  for 
the  others  to  come  along. 

Not  for  seasons  of  football  on  Alton  Field  had 
there  been  such  a  wild  paean  of  delight  as  arose 
to  the  blue  October  sky  just  then!  Reversing  the 
usual  order,  McNatt  had  arisen  from  the  ridicu- 
lous to  the  sublime,  and  Alton  loved  him  for  itl 
Joy  and  laughter  were  mingled  in  that  long-con- 
tinued outburst,  continued  since  the  sight  of  the 
elongated  McNatt  seated  unconcernedly  on  the 
football  down  there  moved  the  onlookers  to  new; 
merriment.  Cochran  kicked  a  goal  and  the  game 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM         219 

went  on,  and  the  audience  breathlessly  awaited 
another  enlivening  spectacle.  But  another  such* 
incident  would  have  been  too  much  for  the  Law 
of  Probabilities.  McNatt  smashed  and  wormed 
and  twisted  his  way  through  the  second  team's 
astonished  line  time  after  time  for  good  gains, 
but  when  eleven  outraged  and  argus-eyed  youths 
are  watching  for  the  appearance  of  one  green- 
sweatered  enemy  that  enemy  hasn't  much  chance 
of  escaping  detection  and  detention,  and  for  that 
reason  McNatt  didn't  again  get  free  that  after- 
noon. But  he  did  gain  every  time  he  was  given 
the  ball,  which  is  glory  enough,  while  the  fact 
that  the  opponents  played  for  McNatt  every  time 
the  lines  heaved  afforded  Cochran  and  Mawson 
i — or,  later,  Willard — an  absence  of  attention  that 
enabled  them  to  do  wonders. 

Before  the  end  of  the  game  McNatt  was  taken 
out,  not,  it  appeared,  because  he  was  exhausted 
or  had  lost  any  of  his  enthusiasm,  but  probably 
because  Jake,  the  trainer,  willed  it  so.  After  that 
he  sat  on  the  bench,  surrounded  by  admirers,  and 
explained  gravely  his  views  on  Science  as  a  Foun- 
dation for  Football. 

Yes,  the  advent  of  Felix  Adelbert  McNatt  was 
certainly  a  sensation,  and  as  such  it  served  as  a 
topic  of  conversation  for  not  only  the  rest  of  that 


220  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

day  but  for  many  days  following.  After  the  first 
flush  of  delight  occasioned  by  the  finding  of  such' 
a  wonder,  captious  ones  asked  why  McNatt  hadn't 
been  discovered  before,  dwelling  on  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  there  right  along  and  could  have  been 
discovered  as  long  ago  as  the  season  before  last 
if  those  in  charge  of  football  had  known  their 
business !  But  on  the  whole  the  School  was  much 
too  well  pleased  to  indulge  in  criticism.  The  one 
weak  position  on  the  team  had  been  strengthened 
and  a  victory  over  Kenly  loomed  large.  Willard 
received  almost  tearful  thanks  from  Joe  and 
warm  commendations  from  the  coach.  The  lat- 
ter 's  evident  gratitude  gave  Willard  the  courage 
to  offer  advice.  "You  see,  sir,"  he  confided, 
"  McNatt 's  got  a  lot  of  queer  ideas  about  how 
football  ought  to  be  played,  and  he  really  agreed 
to  join  the  team  because  he  hopes  to — to  sort  of 
reform  things.  He  asked  me  if  you  were  the  sort 
of  man  he  could  explain  his  theories  to  and  I  said 
you  were.  So,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  guess  it  would 
be  a  pretty  good  plan  to  sort  of— sort  of  humor 
him,  Mr.  Cade,  and  let  him  tell  you  about 
Science." 

"He  can  tell  me  about  Science  and  Art,  too,  if 
he  will  play  the  way  he  played  yesterday  I"  re- 
plied the  coach  emphatically.  "And  if  he  can  talk 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM          221 

the  way  lie  tackles  I'll  listen  to  him  all  night.    And 
you  may  tell  him  so ! " 

But  McNatt  was  biding  his  time.  He  didn't 
mean  to  spoil  his  chances  to  put  the  game  of  foot- 
ball on  a  proper  scientific  basis  by  introducing 
his  ideas  too  early.  He  meant  to  erect  a  firm 
basis  first,  to  show  by  the  scientific  playing  of  a 
single  position  the  plausibility  of  his  theory  that 
all  positions  were  capable  of  like  treatment,  both 
individually  and  collectively  in  the  form  of  the 
team.  Also,  he  wanted  to  establish  cordial  rela- 
tions with  the  powers,  the  coach  and  captain,  be- 
fore beginning  his  proselytism.  Meanwhile,  as 
Willard  learned  later,  he  devoted  much  time  to 
further  study  of  the  subject,  collecting  much  data 
and  drawing  interesting  if  not  altogether  con- 
vincing conclusions  from  it.  As  it  turned  out, 
McNatt  was  far  too  busy  playing  his  position  as 
it  should  be  played  to  do  much  more  that  season 
than  drive  the  entering  wedge  of  reform  into  the 
football  situation.  He  spent  all  one  evening  in 
Mr.  Cade's  rooms  on  one  occasion  and  expounded 
to  his  heart's  content,  referring  at  intervals  to  a 
wealth  of  memoranda,  and  was  listened  to  courte- 
ously and  patiently.  And  on  numerous  other  oc- 
casions he  held  forth  to  such  as  would  listen,  and, 
while  his  audience  was  secretly  amused,  outwardly; 


222  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

his  remarks  met  sober  and  reverent  attention. 
Perhaps  some  day— even  when  you  are  reading 
this  story  for  all  I  know — McNatt  will  be  hailed  as 
the  Prophet  of  Scientific  Football  and  the  game 
will  be  played  according  to  his  ideas.  In  which 
case,  all  I  can  say  is  that  I  shan't  care  to  see  it! 

The  day  after  McNatt 's  first  appearance  with 
the  team  was  the  day  of  the  Hillsport  game. 
Hillsport  School  was  a  much  smaller  institution 
than  Alton  Academy,  but  it  made  up  for  lack  of 
numbers  by  self-esteem  and  aggressiveness.  It 
had  held  a  place  on  Alton's  football  schedule  for 
four  years,  during  which  time  it  had  met  with  one 
defeat,  had  played  one  tie  and  had  won  one 
victory. 

The  victory  had  come  to  it  last  year,  on  Alton 
Field,  and  in  the  ecstasy  of  triumph  the  Hills- 
port  supporters  had  tarried  in  town  long  enough 
to  record  that  triumph  for  posterity.  Loyal  Al- 
tonians  on  their  way  to  church  Sunday  morning 
found  to  their  horror  and  indignant  surprise  that 
the  legend:  "H.  S.  14,  A.  A.  6,"  appeared  in 
large  green  characters  on  a  dozen  hitherto  blank 
walls  and  boardings!  The  worst  of  it  was  that 
the  insulting  inscriptions  were  there  to  stay. 
Perhaps  the  elements  would,  in  the  course  of 
years,  subdue,  perhaps  obliterate,  those  vivid 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM         223 

J>rush  streaks,  but  today  they  looked  as  glaring 
as  they  had  on  that  first  calm  Sabbath  morning. 
Alton  had  viewed  and  exclaimed  and  muttered 
yengefully  for  some  days,  but  as  time  passed 
familiarity  bred  indifference,  and  now  it  was  only 
when  a  visiting  relative  innocently  asked  the 
meaning  of  the  cryptic  signs  that  indignation  and 
a  thirst  for  revenge  welled  again  in  the  Alton 
breast. 

Last  year's  defeat  and  those  insulting  green 
painted  symbols  of  disgrace  combined  to  form  a 
mad  desire  for  revenge  this  fall  in  the  heart  of 
jevery  Alton  fellow.  There  were  some  whose  out- 
raged sensibilities  even  induced  the  opinion  that 
a  victory  over  Hillsport  was  more  to  be  desired 
than  a  triumph  over  that  arch-enemy,  Kenly  Hall. 
,This,  however,  was  an  extreme  view  held  by  only 
a  few,  although  among  the  few  were  several  rep- 
resentative minds:  as,  for  instance,  Mr.  Robert 
[Wallace  Newhall  and  Mr.  Calvin  Grainger.  Mr. 
Newhall  stated  distinctly  and  with  much  feeling, 
in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Grainger,  Mr.  Myers,  Mr. 
Proctor  and  Mr.  Harmon,  that  if  "we  don't  lick 
the  tar  out  of  those  fresh  mutts  tomorrow  I  won't 
come  back  here!"  Mr.  Grainger,  who  had  earn- 
estly striven  the  preceding  spring  to  wreak  re- 
yeage  on  Hillsport  on  the  baseball  diamond,  and 


224  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

had  failed,  applauded  the  sentiment,  but  other3, 
frivolous-minded  persons  like  Martin  Proctor  and 
Joe  Myers,  expressed  only  derision. 

"What  would  you  do,  Bob?"  asked  Martin. 
"Stay  over  in  Hillsport  and  blow  up  the  school 
buildings  ?" 

"He  knows  blamed  well,"  laughed  Joe,  "that 
he's  safe.  With  old  Felix  McNutt  tearing  holes 
in  the  line,  Hillsport 's  got  about  the  same  chance 
to  escape  a  walloping  as  Bob  has  to  get  to 
heaven ! ' ' 

"I  hope  you're  right,"  said  Cal  Grainger. 
"I'd  feel  disgraced  if  those  fresh  guys  licked  U3 
again." 

"They  won't,"  Joe  assured  him.  "Not  this 
year.  Boy,  we  've  got  a  team  now !  With  McNutt 
in  there,  that's  a  mighty  pretty  backfield,  and 
Kenly's  going  to  know  it  three  weeks  from  to- 
morrow!" 

"Three  weeks!"  exclaimed  Willard.  "Not 
really?" 

"Why  not?" 

"But — but  that's  so  soon!  Gee,  I  thought  the 
Kenly  game  was  lots  further  off!" 

"It  isn't,  though,"  answered  Joe,  shaking  his 
head.  "And  those  three  weeks  will  be  gone  be- 
fore you  know  it,  too.  It's  funny  about  that.  One 


McNATT  JOINS  THE  TEAM          225 

day  you're  in  the  middle  of  the  season,  and  then, 
seems  like  it  was  the  next  day,  you  wake  up  and 
the  Big  Game's  right  on  top  of  you!  It — it  sort 
of  scares  you,  too!" 

"Say,  Joe,  what's  the  real  dope  on  Kenly  this 
year,  anyway?"  asked  Bob  thoughtfully. 

Joe  shrugged.  "You  know  as  much  as  I  do. 
She 's  had  about  an  average  season,  I  guess.  She's 
played  five  games,  one  more  than  we  have,  and 
has  lost  two,  won  two  and  tied  the  other.  You 
can't  tell  much  about  Kenly  until  along  toward 
the  end  of  the  season,  any  more  than  you  can 
about  us.  Last  year  she  didn't  look  very  good 
until  the  Lorimer  game.  Then  she  walked  all  over 
Lorimer  to  the  tune  of  twenty-something  to  noth- 
ing. That  was  the  week  before  we  played  her, 
you  know,  and  it  made  us  sit  up  and  take  notice. 
But  taking  notice  didn't  do  us  much  good,  for  she 
walloped  us  when  our  turn  came." 

"The  papers  speak  pretty  well  of  her  backs," 
observed  Cal.  "She  has  one  fellow,  I  forget  his 
same — " 

"Puckhaber?"  asked  Joe. 

"That's  it,  Puckhaber!  Some  name,  I'll  sayl 
He's  good,  isn't  he?" 

"He's  all  right,  but  he  wasn't  anything  re- 
markable last  fall.  We  stopped  him  as  well  as  we 


226  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

stopped  any  of  her  backs.  She's  got  a  good  man 
in  Timmons,  though,  her  left  end.  He'll  bear 
watching,  fellows.  Well,  it's  nine-thirty,  Bob. 
Time  to  turn  in.  This  may  be  your  last  night  in 
the  old  school,  son:  better  make  the  most  of  it!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

REVENGE ! 

ALTON  played  the  enemy  at  Hillsport  this  year,  a 
small  town  some  twelve  miles  to  the  south.  The 
distance,  however,  didn't  measure  up  to  the  time 
it  took  for  the  journey,  for  team  and  supporters 
had  to  take  the  train  to  Darlington,  nine  miles 
away,  and  then  cross  to  Hillsport  by  trolley,  con- 
suming all  of  an  hour  and  ten  minutes  on  the 
way.  Saturday  was  what  Martin  called  a 
"mushy"  day.  The  sun  came  and  went  from  be- 
yond a  haze  of  gray  clouds  and  a  light,  damp 
breeze  blew  inland  from  the  sea.  It  was  too  warm 
for  an  ideal  football  day,  but  those  who  were  to 
look  on  found  no  fault  with  it.  Most  of  the  School 
accompanied  the  players  and,  since  Manager 
Ross  when  providing  for  the  team's  transporta- 
tion had  failed  to  make  any  arrangement  for  the 
followers,  a  lamentable  lack  of  conveyances  de- 
veloped at  Darlington.  There  was  a  special  car 
waiting  for  the  players,  but  the  single  regular 
car  which  was  due  to  make  the  trip  to  Hillsport 
ten  minutes  later  could  not  possibly  be  made  to 

227 


228  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

hold  more  than  eighty  of  the  nearly  three  hundred 
fellows  who  fought  for  places.  A  hurry  call  was 
telephoned  to  Hillsport  for  extra  cars,  but  before 
they  came  several  scores  of  good-natured  but 
impatient  youths  had  set  forth  on  foot  to  cover 
the  last  two-and-a-half-mile  leg  of  the  journey. 
Fortunately  for  these,  the  game  was  not  started 
until  nearly  fifteen  minutes  after  the  advertised 
time  and  the  last  flushed  and  perspiring  Altonian 
had  dragged  himself  to  a  seat  before  the  Green 
kicked  off  to  the  Gray-and-Gold. 

There  is  no  good  reason  for  devoting  much 
space  to  the  contest,  for,  although  the  final  score 
was  not  as  one-sided  as  early  evidences  promised, 
it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  from  the  first  moment 
that  the  visiting  horde  was  certain  of  victory. 
Save  that  McLeod  was  in  Macon's  place  at  right 
end  for  Alton,  the  line-up  was  quite  as  expected. 
McNatt  was  at  full-back  and  Mawson  at  left  half. 
Gil  Tarver  held  the  helm.  There  were  no  substi- 
tutes introduced  by  Coach  Cade  until  the  third 
inning  was  well  along.  Then  Jack  Macon,  who 
had  been  suffering  from  a  mild  attack  of  tonsil- 
litis, went  back  to  his  position,  and  Willard  and 
Moncks  were  sent  in  to  replace  Mawson  and  Coch- 
ran.  Still  later,  Hutchins  ousted  Gil  Tarver  and 
Cravath  replaced  Nichols  at  center.  Both  teams 


REVENGE!  229 

found  the  weather  uncomfortable  and  toward  the 
last  the  play  slowed  up  until  it  fairly  dragged. 

There  were  no  spectacular  incidents.  Alton 
used  few  plays  and  made  them  go.  There  was 
never  at  any  time  necessity  for  uncovering  any- 
thing new.  Hillsport,  encouraged  by  much  excel- 
lent support  from  the  east  side  of  the  field,  started 
off  very  confidently  to  make  gains  through  the 
opposing  line.  After  several  failures  she  shifted 
her  attention  to  the  ends,  and  still  later  attempted 
a  kicking  advance.  To  the  latter,  to  the  surprise 
and  delight  of  the  visiting  spectators,  McNatt  re- 
plied and  replied  eloquently.  Substitutions  had 
deprived  the  Alton  team  of  her  usual  punters  and 
the  task  of  returning  Hillsport 's  kicks  devolved  on 
the  full-back,  and  the  full-back  accepted  the  task 
untroubledly  and,  while  he  was  too  much  out  of 
practice  to  quite  equal  the  best  efforts  of  the 
rival  punter,  he  performed  some  very  satisfactory 
feats  in  aerial  warfare.  McNatt  was  held  back 
today,  being  afforded  few  chances  to  shine  lest 
his  fame  reach  Kenly  too  early  in  the  season. 
Whether  there  were  any  Kenly  scouts  on  hand  to 
take  notes  was  not  known,  but  Coach  Cade  was 
determined  that  if  there  were  they  should  have 
but  little  to  report.  McNatt  on  defense,  though, 
was  not  to  be  repressed,  and  many  an  ambitious 


230  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Hillsport  back  was  nipped  in  the  bnd,  so  to  speak". 
On  the  attack  McNatt  gained  whenever  he  was 
called  on,  but  the  work  was  very  evenly  distrib- 
uted among  the  backs.  Willard  played  a  strong, 
hard  game  which,  if  no  better  than  Mawson  had 
put  up,  was  equally  as  good.  Alton  made  her  first 
score  in  the  first  period,  smashing  Cochran  over 
for  a  touchdown  at  the  end  of  eight  minutes  of 
playing.  Cochran  crowned  his  touchdown  with  a 
goal.  In  the  second  period  Alton  worked  to  Hills- 
port's  eighteen  yards  and  lost  the  ball  on  a  fumble 
by  Tarver,  and  was  on  her  way  to  a  second  touch- 
down when  the  whistle  blew,  leaving  her  in  pos- 
session of  the  ball  on  the  enemy's  twenty- three 
yards.  In  the  third  period,  after  Hillsport  had 
rallied  and  taken  the  pigskin  to  near  Alton's 
thirty,  the  Gray-and-Gold  took  the  ball  on  downs 
and  began  a  fourth  journey  up  the  field  that  fi- 
nally resulted  in  the  second  score,  McNatt  going 
off  left  tackle  for  four  yards  and  the  touchdown. 
Tarver  kicked  a  neat  goal.  That  ended  the  scor- 
ing, and,  while  Hillsport  opened  up  several  long 
passes  after  the  next  kick-off  and  occasioned  a 
moment  of  uneasiness  once,  neither  side  threat- 
ened the  opponent's  goal,  and  the  play  became 
utterly  listless  as  the  end  approached. 

Today's  Hillsport  eleven  was  not  by  any  means 


REVENGE!  231 

the  team  that  had  worsted  Alton  last  fall,  and 
Alton's  victory  was  nothing  to  be  very  proud  of. 
It  was,  consequently,  satisfaction  from  revenge 
achieved  rather  than  pride  of  performance  that 
caused  the  visiting  crowd  to  cheer  and  sing  with 
such  unction  when  the  game  was  over.  Alton 
"rubbed  it  in"  a  little,  I  fear,  and,  since  the  Hills- 
port  fellows  didn't  take  defeat  any  too  gracefully, 
it  looked  at  one  time  as  if  there  would  be  trouble 
before  the  marching  victors  left  the  field.  How- 
ever, a  clash  was  averted,  and  Alton,  waving  gray- 
and-gold  banners  and  still  cheering,  took  herself 
across  the  grounds  to  the  car  line.  Better  accom-? 
modations  were  afforded  for  the  return  trip  to 
Darlington  and  no  one  had  to  walk. 

The  Alton  team  had  dressed  in  the  field-house, 
a  small  wooden  structure  built  under  one  of  the 
grandstands,  and  by  the  time  they  were  once 
more  in  street  clothes  the  spectators  had  long 
since  vanished.  Willard  and  Martin  had  shared 
the  same  suitcase  and  when,  having  reached  the 
waiting  trolley  car,  some  three  blocks  distant  from 
the  field,  it  was  discovered  the  suitcase  was  miss* 
ing  each  laid  the  blame  on  the  other. 

"I  thought  you  had  it,"  said  Martin. 

'  *  I  thought  you  had  it, ' '  replied  Willard.  *  *  You 
were  at  it  last." 


232  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

"I  was!  I'll  bet  you!  I'll  match  you  to  see 
which  of  us  goes  back  for  it." 

"I  don't  mind  going,"  said  Willard,  "but  I'll 
miss  the  car,  I  guess." 

"We'll  wait  for  you,"  said  Bob,  who,  with  Cal 
Grainger,  had  been  enjoying  the  joke.  "There'll 
be  another  car  pretty  quick.  Get  a  move  on, 
Brand!" 

Willard  found  the  field-house  locked  when  he 
reached  it  again,  and  no  one  was  in  sight.  There 
was  just  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  he  did  it.  Find- 
ing a  flat  piece  of  iron  amongst  the  litter  behind 
the  little  building,  he  forced  a  window  and  crawled 
through.  Rather  to  his  surprise,  the  suitcase  was 
just  where  they  had  left  it,  and,  leaving  as  he  had 
entered,  he  closed  the  window  again  and  hurried 
back  across  the  school  grounds.  It  was  well  after 
five  o'clock  and  lights  were  showing  in  some  of 
the  dormitory  windows.  At  the  main  entrance  a 
group  of  three  awaited  him;  Martin,  Bob  and 
Cal.  The  special  car  had  gone,  but  Bob  assured 
him  that  there  would  be  another  one  along  pretty 
soon,  and  so,  their  bags  at  their  feet,  they  perched 
themselves  on  the  coping  of  the  wall  and  waited. 
At  intervals  Hillsport  youths  passed  through  the 
gateway,  eyeing  them  with  a  disfavor  that  brought 
chuckles  from  Bob. 


REVENGE!  233 

"Gee,  they're  a  sore  bunch,"  he  said.  "We 
could  get  up  a  scrap  without  half  trying." 

"Don't  see  what  they've  got  to  be  sore 
about,"  observed  Cal  Grainger  belligerently. 
"We  haven't  daubed  green  paint  all  over  their 
town ! ' ' 

Willard  held  his  watch  to  the  light  and  inquired 
uneasily:  "What  time  does  that  train  go,  fel- 
lows!" 

"Quarter  to  six,"  answered  Martin.  "What 
time  is  it!" 

"Nearly  half-past  five,"  replied  Willard. 

Bob  whistled.  "We'll  never  make  it,"  he 
laughed.  "When's  the  next  one!  Anyone 
Inow!" 

No  one  did.  Cal  remarked  that  even  if  the  car 
came  right  then  it  wouldn't  get  them  to  Darling- 
ton in  time  for  the  train  that  the  others  were 
taking. 

"What  do  we  care!"  asked  Bob.  "We  don't 
have  to  get  back  until  ten  if  we  don't  want  to. 
Look  here,  let's  get  some  supper  here  and  go 
home  afterwards!" 

"Might  as  well,"  agreed  Martin.  "We 
couldn't  possibly  get  to  school  before  seven.  Got 
any  money!  I'm  broke." 


234  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"A  couple  of  dollars,"  answered  Bob.  "Howj 
about  you,  Cal?" 

Cal  confessed  to  being  the  Croesus  of  the  party, 
having  the  magnificent  sum  of  four  dollars  and 
some  cents  on  his  person,  and,  unlike  some 
wealthy  persons,  he  was  quite  willing  to  share  his 
riches.  So,  all  being  agreed,  they  set  forth  foi; 
the  center  of  town,  following  the  car-track  foi; 
guidance.  The  long-awaited  car  overtook  them 
presently,  but,  although  Bob  was  for  taking  it  be-; 
cause  of  his  suitcase,  he  was  overruled,  Cal  re-i 
lieving  him  of  his  burden.  Half  a  mile  from  the 
school  a  quite  pretentious  restaurant  rewarded 
their  search  and  they  trooped  in  and  took  posses- 
sion of  a  table  for  four.  Having  ordered  rather 
an  elaborate  repast,  it  was  decided  that  Cal  should 
go  out  and  gather  information  regarding  the  train 
service,  and  Cal,  hastily  swallowing  the  rest  oi; 
the  slice  of  bread  that  he  was  engaged  on,  went. 
He  returned  five  minutes  later  grinning  broadly* 

" What's  the  trouble?"  asked  Bob.  " Spill  it, 
son.  I  know  that  grin  of  yours ! ' ' 

"There  was  a  train  two  minutes  ago,"  chuckled 
Cal,  "and  the  next  one  doesn't  go  until  eight- 
thirty-three!" 

"What  do  we  care?"  asked  Bob.  "That'll  get 
us  home  long  before  ten." 


REVENGE!  235 

"Sure,  but  what '11  we  do  for  two  hours  in  this 
benighted  burg?"  asked  Martin. 

" Maybe  there's  a  movie  house.  There's  bound 
to  be,"  said  Bob. 

''I  didn't  see  any,"  Cal  replied.  "I  guess  they 
don't  allow  'em  here." 

"We'll  ask  someone."    Bob  hailed  a  waiter. 

"Movies?  No,  sir,  not  in  Hillsport.  There's 
two  good  ones  over  to  Warner,  though,"  replied 
the  waiter. 

"How  far's  Warner?" 

"Three  miles  by  the  trolley.  It  takes  about 
twenty  minutes." 

"Great  green  grasshoppers!"  exclaimed  Cal. 
"What  a  place  to  live  in!  What  do  you  do  at 
night  here?" 

"Well,  there's  a  pool-room  on  the  street  above 
and  a  bowling-alley  across  the  square,"  chuckled 
the  waiter.  "Mostly,  though,  we  go  to  bed!" 

"I  don't  blame  you,"  muttered  Martin.  "Only 
thing  to  do  is  eat  as  much  as  we  can  and  take  our 
time  about  it.  How  long  before  those  steaks '11  be 
here?" 

"Guess  they're  ready  now,  sir.     I'll  go  see." 

When  the  waiter  had  departed  Cal  took  another 
piece  of  bread,  levied  on  Willard's  butter  and 
spoke  thickly.  "Listen,  fellows,"  he  said.  "Tell 


236  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

you  what  we  can  do.  We  can  get  back  at  Hills- 
port." 

"Get  back  at  it!"  jeered  Martin.  "Get  out  of 
it's  what  we  want!" 

"I  mean  we  can  do  a  little  celebrating,"  con- 
tinned  Cal,  lowering  his  voice,  although  the  tables 
were  empty  on  each  side  of  them.  "Get  me?" 

"Not  clearly,"  answered  Bob.  "Elucidate, 
please.  Also,  kindly  keep  away  from  my  butter, 
you  big  hog!"  Bob  removed  his  modest  pat  to  a 
safer  place,  and  Cal,  foiled,  ate  the  remainder  of 
the  slice  unbuttered. 

"Have  you  forgotten  what  they  did  to  us  last 
year?"  he  demanded  indignantly. 

"Hardly!  They  licked  us.  And  then  the£ 
painted  the  score  all  over— I  get  you!  By  jim- 
iny,  that's  a  corking  scheme,  Cal!  We'll  do  it! 
We'll  make  this  old  burg  as  pretty  as  a  picture! 
We'll—" 

"We'll  get  in  a  peck  of  trouble,"  interrupted 
Martin.  "Not  for  me,  thanks!" 

"Oh,  don't  be  a  piker,"  begged  Cal.  "They 
did  it  to  us  and  didn't  get  into  any  trouble. 
What's  sauce  for  the  sauce— I  mean — " 

"Is  sauce  for  the  saucer,"  aided  Bob.  "Righto! 
We  get  your  meaning,  son.  I  see  no  reason  why 
we  shouldn't  be  allowed  some  slight — ah — evi- 


EEVENGE!  237 

5ence  of  our  joy.  Hillsport  got  away  with  it,  so 
why  shouldn't  we!" 

The  arrival  of  supper  interrupted  further  dis- 
cussion of  the  matter,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  first  intense  pangs  of  hunger  had  been  ap- 
peased that  Martin  returned  to  the  subject. 
"We'd  have  to  have  paint  and  brushes,"  he  said 
discouragingly,  "and  we  couldn't  get  them  at  this 
time  of  night." 

"We'd  only  need  one  bucket  of  paint  and  one 
brush,"  replied  Bob.  "And  how  do  you  know  we 
can't  get  them?  This  is  Saturday  night,  and 
there's  sure  to  be  some  place  open." 

"Well,  we  couldn't  get  gray  and  gold  in  one 
bucket,  you  lobster,"  returned  Martin  impolitely. 

"We  don't  need  gray  and  gold,  you  shrimp. 
They  wouldn't  show  up  well  enough.  We  want 
a  nice  quart  can  of  black.  That 's  the  ticket !  Nice, 
black  black!  Who's  going  to  have  pie!" 

It  appeared  that  as  many  as  four  of  their  num- 
ber were  going  to  indulge  in  that  delicacy,  and 
that  Martin,  having  consumed  one  large  glass  of 
milk,  was  in  the  market  for  a  second.  He  had 
the  forethought,  though,  to  count  his  money  be- 
fore giving  his  order,  and,  finding  he  was  safe, 
added:  "How  much  does  paint  cost?  I've  only 
carfare  left." 


238  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Cal's  got  a  dollar  yet,  haven't  you?"  answered 
Bob.  "Paint  isn't  expensive.  Maybe  seventy-five 
cents  for  a  quart.  A  brush  oughtn't  to  be  more 
than  a  quarter,  had  it!" 

"You  can  buy  a  toothbrush  for  a  quarter," 
said  Cal,  "but  I  guess  a  paint  brush  costs  a  heap 
more.  I've  got  a  dollar  and  sixty  cents  left, 
though,  and  I'll  gladly  devote  it  to  the  cause. 
Finish  your  eats,  fellows,  and  let's  get  started." 

Willard  followed  doubtfully  when  the  repast 
was  over.  "I'll  go  along,"  he  said,  "but  I'd 
rather  not  have  anything  to  do  with  the  game.  It 
doesn't  look  healthy  to  me." 

Martin  laughed.  "It's  all  right  if  we  don't  get 
nabbed,  Brand.  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  see  the 
expressions  on  the  faces  of  some  of  these  chaps 
over  here  tomorrow!" 


CHAPTER  XIX 

BLACK   PAINT 

As  Bob  had  pointed  out,  it  was  Saturday  night, 
and  even  in  Hillsport  most  of  the  merchants  kept 
their  shops  open.  As  it  was  considered  unwise  to 
ask  the  location  of  a  hardware  store,  the  quartette 
was  some  time  finding  one.  But  success  rewarded 
[their  efforts  presently  and,  lest  numbers  create 
suspicion,  Bob  was  delegated  to  do  the  purchas- 
ing alone.  Cal  emptied  his  pocket  of  all  it  con- 
gained  except  sufficient  to  pay  his  fare  back  to 
lAlton  and  Bob  pulled  his  cap  down  and  entered 
the  store.  In  a  very  few  minutes  he  emerged,  a 
paper-covered  package  under  one  arm,  and 
strolled  casually  along  the  street  to  a  dimly 
lighted  corner  where  the  others  awaited  him. 

"Get  it?"  whispered  Martin. 

"Sure!  Also  and  likewise  a  brush."  Bob 
pulled  the  latter  article  from  a  trousers  pocket 
and  waved  it  triumphantly.  * '  Here 's  the  change, '  ' 
lie  added. 

Cal  held  the  few  coins  that  dropped  into  his 

239 


240  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

palm  to  the  uncertain  light  of  a  distant  street 
lamp.  "Huh,  there  isn't  much  of  it,"  he  said. 

"Paint's  high,  owing  to — to — I  forget  what," 
answered  Bob  cheerfully.  "But  the  brush  was 
only  thirty  cents.  That  was  cheap,  eh?" 

"It  must  be  a  wonder!"  commented  Cal.  "Bet 
you  the  bristles  all  come  out  before  we  get  through 
with  it." 

"We  ought  to  soak  it  in  water  first,"  said  Bob, 
"but  I  guess  there  isn't  time." 

"You're  a  swell  little  guesser,"  answered  Mar- 
tin. "Which  way  do  we  go?" 

"Back  the  way  we  came,"  said  Cal.  "The 
nearer  the  school,  the  better,  I  say." 

"That's  right.  I  wonder  should  we  stir  this 
stuff  up."  Bob  tore  off  the  disguising  paper  and 
revealed  a  quart  can.  "Guess  we'll  have  to. 
Let's  get  the  cover  off  and  find  a  stick  or  some- 
thing." 

Getting  the  cover  off  was  not  difficult,  Cal  pry- 
ing it  up  with  his  locker  key,  but  finding  a  piece 
of  wood  with  which  to  stir  was  more  of  a  prob- 
lem. They  searched  and  poked  around  in  the 
gloom  of  the  back  street  without  success  until 
Martin  found  a  broken  fence  picket  and  pulled  off 
a  nice  long  splinter.  Then,  in  the  added  dark- 
ness of  a  tree,  they  put  the  can  on  the  sidewalk 


One  brief  instant  they  tarried  to  admire 


BLACK  PAINT  241 

and  proceeded  to  mix  the  ingredients  thoroughly. 
Once  a  passer  on  the  other  side  caused  them  to 
straighten  up  and  assume  casual  attitudes,  but  for 
the  rest  they  were  undisturbed.  Even  on  the  busi- 
ness thoroughfares  Hillsport  was  not  a  crowded 
town  tonight.  Presently  they  set  off,  Bob  bearing 
the  paint  and  Cal  the  brush,  keeping  to  the  darker 
streets  until  the  center  of  the  town  was  left  be-; 
hind.  Then  they  crossed  to  the  residence  avenue 
by  which  they  had  returned  from  the  school  and 
began  to  look  for  blank  walls  or  fences  appropri- 
ate to  their  purpose. 

After  some  five  blocks  had  been  traveled  Bob 
voiced  disparagement.  "This  is  a  punk  town  for 
decorating,"  he  said.  " Nothing  but  iron  and 
picket  fences." 

"What's  that  over  there?"  asked  Martin, 
pointing.  It  proved,  when  they  had  crossed  the* 
street,  to  be  the  clapboarded  side  of  a  stable  or, 
garage  set  some  three  feet  back  from  the  fence* 
Bob  gloated  fiendishly  and  called  for  the  brush. 
But,  although  until  that  instant  scarcely  half  a 
dozen  persons  had  been  sighted,  now  the  long 
street  suddenly  became  densely  populated,  or  so  it 
seemed  to  the  vandals.  A  man  came  out  of  a  house 
across  the  way,  a  boy  and  a  dog  appeared  from  a 
cross  thoroughfare  and  two  ladies  appeared  from; 


242  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

the  direction  of  the  shopping  district.  Bob  depos- 
ited the  paint  can  against  the  fence  and  the  boys 
stood  in  front  of  it  in  negligent  attitudes.  Cal 
^histled  idly  and  unmusically.  The  boy  passed 
unsuspiciously,  but  the  dog  showed  signs  of  curi- 
osity until  Martin  lifted  him  swiftly  but  merci- 
fully from  the  vicinity  with  a  dexterous  foot. 
jThen  the  man,  having  lighted  a  cigar  very  delib- 
erately, took  himself  off  and  the  two  ladies 
passed,  casting  nervous  glances  at  the  quartette, 
and  the  street  was  again  quiet. 

Bob  dipped  brush  in  paint  and  reached  toward 
the  immaculate  whiteness  of  the  building.  Wil- 
lard  looked  on  dubiously,  but  forebore  to  remon- 
strate. It  was  a  difficult  reach  and  Bob  was 
grumbling  before  he  had  formed  the  big  A  that 
started  the  inscription.  But,  although  the  black 
paint  ran  down  the  handle  of  the  brush  and  in- 
commoded him  vastly,  he  persevered  and  in  a  min- 
ute the  sign  stood  forth  in  the  semi-darkness,  huge 
and  startling: 

A.  A.  14 
H.S.   0 

One  brief  instant  they  tarried  to  admire,  and 
then  they  hurried  away  from  the  place.  It  seemed 
»to  them  that  those  big  black  letters  and  numerals 
visible  for  blocks !  By  common  consent  they 


BLACK  PAINT  2431 

turned  the  next  corner  and  dived  into  the  com- 
parative blackness  of  a  side  street.  Presently 
they  stopped  and  exchanged  felicitations. 

" Swell!"  chuckled  Cal.  "Gee,  I  wish  I  could 
see  the  Hillsport  fellows  tomorrow  when  they 
catch  sight  of  it!" 

"So  do  I,"  said  Bob.  "Didn't  it  show  up 
great?  Who's  got  a  handkerchief  he's  not  partic- 
ular about?" 

"Wipe  your  hands  on  your  trousers,"  advised 
Martin  coldly. 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  own  handker- 
chief?" inquired  Cal.  "You  get  too  much  paint 
on  your  brush,  anyway. ' ' 

"Well,  you  can't  be  very  careful  when  you've 
got  to  hurry,"  grumbled  Bob.  "You  can  do  the 
next  one,  seeing  you  know  so  blamed  much  about 
it!  Gosh,  the  silly  stuff  is  running  up  my 
sleeve!" 

"I've  got  an  old  handkerchief  you  can  have," 
said  Willard. 

"Thanks,  Brand.  You're  the  only  gentleman 
in  the  bunch.  Excepting  me,"  added  Bob  as  Mar- 
tin laughed. 

"Where  next?"  asked  Cal  while  Bob  wiped  his 
hand. 

"Let's  paint  a  good  one  somewhere  near  the 


244  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

school,"  Martin  suggested.  "Seems  to  me  there 
^ras  a  brick  wall  across  from  where  we  were  wait- 
ing for  the  car  that  would  be  just  the  ticket." 

"Lead  me  to  it,"  begged  Cal.  "This  is  my 
iturn." 

They  got  back  to  the  main  street  a  block  far- 
ther on  and  a  few  minutes'  walk  brought  them 
in  sight  of  the  main  entrance  to  the  school.  ' '  We 
don't  want  to  stay  around  too  long,"  said  WiL 
lard.  "It's  nearly  eight  o'clock  now." 

"Guess  we'll  have  to  do  one  more  and  call  it 
a  day,"  replied  Bob.  "I  never  saw  such  a  punk 
town  for — for  decorative  purposes!" 

Three  Hillsport  fellows,  returning  to  school, 
•overtook  them  as  they  neared  the  entrance  and, 
as  it  seemed,  viewed  them  very,  very  suspiciously. 
But  the  four  kept  their  heads  down,  and  Cal,  now 
carrying  the  pot  of  paint,  was  careful  to  keep  it 
hidden.  The  three  entered  the  school  grounds 
and  were  lost  to  sight  and  the  conspirators 
breathed  more  freely.  The  wide  street  ended  at 
the  campus.  A  cross  street  ran  right  and  left  and 
for  a  block  in  each  direction  the  high  iron  fence 
of  the  school  bore  it  company.  From  the  right  the 
street  car  line  came,  turning  in  front  of  the  gate. 
As,  however,  they  had  seen  but  one  car  since  they 
had  started  forth  on  their  expedition,  interrup- 


BLACK  PAINT  245 

tion  from  that  source  seemed  unlikely.  The  brick 
wall  of  which  Martin  had  spoken  could  not  have 
been  placed  more  advantageously.  It  surrounded 
the  small  premises  of  a  residence  on  the  left-hand 
corner,  and,  as  Bob  triumphantly  pointed  out,  a 
sign  painted  there  would  be  the  first  thing  seea 
by  anyone  coming  through  the  school  gate. 

"That's  all  right, "  returned  Cal  dubiously, 
"but  it's  awfully  light  here."  And  so  it  was,  for 
just  inside  the  gate  an  electric  arc  lamp  shed  its 
blue  radiance  afar. 

"I'll  stand  at  the  gate,"  volunteered  Bob,  "and 
Mart  and  Brand  can  watch  the  streets.  If  any- 
one comes  we'll  whistle." 

"What  about  the  folks  in  the  house?"  Gal's 
enthusiasm  was  rapidly  waning.  The  residence 
was  brightly  lighted  and  the  strains  of  a  pianoj 
came  forth. 

"They  can't  see  through  the  wall,  you  lunk- 
head," answered  Bob,  "and  if  anyone  comes  out 
we'll  see  'em  and  let  you  know.  All  you  need  to. 
do  then  is  set  the  paint  pot  down  and  just  walk 
away,  careless-like. " 

"We-ell,  but  you  fellows  watch,"  said  Cal  re- 
signedly. , 

Bob  posted  himself  across  the  street  at  the  en- 
trance and  Martin  and  Willard  took  up  positions 


246  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

from  where  they  could  see  anyone  approaching  on 
either  street.  Then  Cal  set  to  work.  Painting  on 
the  rough  surface  of  a  brick  wall  is  not  so  simple 
as  painting  on  wood,  and  Cal  made  slow  progress. 
Now  and  then  the  others  heard  disgusted  mur- 
murs from  where,  a  darker  form  against  the 
shadows,  he  stooped  at  his  task.  Several  min^ 
utes  passed,  and  Willard,  concerned  with  the  fact 
that  train  time  was  approaching,  grew  nervous; 
which,  perhaps,  accounted  for  a  momentary  lapse 
from  watchfulness.  At  all  events,  the  approach- 
ing pedestrian,  coming  along  on  the  school  side 
of  the  cross  street,  was  scarcely  a  dozen  yards 
'distant  when  Willard  saw  him.  The  latter 's 
warning  might,  it  seemed,  have  been  heard  a  mile 
away. 

"Beat  it!"  yelled  Willard. 

Afterwards  he  explained  that  shouting  w^as 
quicker  than  whistling,  and  that  if  he  had  taken 
time  to  pucker  his  lips  they  would  never  have  got 
away  without  being  seen. 

They  came  together  a  block  down  the  main 
thoroughfare,  breathless  and  hilarious.  "He — he 
toent  in  the  gate,"  panted  Bob.  "I  saw  him. 
Looked  like  one  of  the  faculty,  too.  Gee,  it  was 
a  lucky  thing  he  didn't  catch  us!  D-did  you  get 
it  done,  Cal?" 


BLACK  PAINT  247 

"Just!  I  was  going  over  the  naught  a  second 
time  when  I  heard  Brand  yell.  I  had  the  paint 
can  in  one  hand  and  the  brush  in  the  other  and 
I  just  heaved  'em  both  over  the  wall  and  ran!" 

"I'll  bet  it  looks  great,"  chuckled  Martin. 

"I  know  it  does,"  answered  Cal  proudly.  "I 
made  the  letters  and  figures  as  big  as  that."  He 
held  his  hands  nearly  a  yard  apart.  "It  took 
most  of  the  paint,  too.  Brick's  awfully  hard  to 
work  on.  What  did  you  do  with  Brand's  hand- 
kerchief, Bob?" 

"Gave  it  back,"  said  Bob. 

"No,  you  didn't,"  denied  Willard. 

"Didn't  I?  I  thought  I  did.  Meant  to,  any- 
way. Must  have  dropped  it  somewhere,  then. 
Wipe  your  hands  on  your  own  hanky.  That's 
what  you  told  me  to  do!" 

"I  will  like  fun,"  muttered  Cal.  "I'll  bet  the 
stuff  is  all  over  me,  hang  it!" 

"You  can  wash  up  at  the  station,"  said  Martin. 
"Who  knows  when  the  cars  run  over  to  Dar- 
lington 1 ' ' 

An  uneasy  silence  followed.  Then  Bob  said: 
"What  about  it,  Cal?  You  asked,  didn't  you?" 

"I  asked  when  the  trains  went,"  replied  Cal. 
"I— I  suppose  the  cars  go  every  ten  minutes  or 
so,  don't  they?" 


248  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"What  time  is  it  now?"  asked  Martin  bruskly, 

"Five  to  eight,"  answered  Willard. 

With  one  accord  the  four  broke  into  a  trot.  "If 
we  miss  that  train  we're  dished!"  said  Bob. 
"Seems  to  me  you'd  find  out  something,  Cal,  while 
you  were  at  it!  What  time  does  the  train  go?" 

< '  Eight-thirty-eight, '  '  replied  Cal.  '  *  You  didn  't 
ask  me  to  find  out  about  the  trolley.  I  thought  you 
knew  about  it.  How  was  I  to  know — " 

"Save  your  breath  for  running,"  advised  Bob 
coldly.  "If  we  can't  get  a  trolley  we'll  have  to 
foot  it." 

"Gee,  we'll  never  do  it  in  thirty  minutes!"  ex- 
claimed Martin. 

"We'll  have  to,"  said  Bob  grimly,  "if  we  can't 
get  a  car.  If  we're  not  back  at  school  by  ten  we'll 
get  fits.  And  then,  if  the  faculty  over  here  makes 
a  fuss  about  those  signs,  why,  we'll  be  nabbed!" 

"I  told  you  it  was  too  risky,"  mourned  Martin. 

"Well,  you  took  a  hand  in  it,  didn't  you?"  asked 
Bob  shortly.  "Shut  up  and  get  a  move  on!  Isn't 
that  the  square  ahead  there?" 

It  was,  and  when,  very  much  out  of  breath,  the 
quartette  reached  it,  a  car  obligingly  swung 
around  a  corner  and  paused  in  front  of  a  waiting 
station  a  block  away.  "Come  on!"  yelled  CaL 
"That's  ours!" 


BLACK  PAINT  249 

Of  course,  having  reached  it  and  staggered 
breathlessly  inside,  they  had  to  sit  there  for  quite 
ten  minutes  before  the  car  resumed  its  journey. 
But  they  were  too  grateful  to  mind  that,  and,  al- 
though Willard  looked  at  his  watch  frequently  and 
anxiously,  the  conductor  assured  them  that,  if 
'they  didn't  burn  out  a  fuse  or  run  off  the  track 
or  if  the  power  didn't  give  out,  they  would  reach 
the  Darlington  station  eight  minutes  before  train 
time.  Bob  advised  Cal  to  keep  his  hands  out  of 
sight  and  Cal  hung  them  down  between  his  knees 
all  the  way.  The  conductor's  prediction  proved 
correct,  and,  as  there  were  no  misadventures  on 
the  journey,  Cal  was  able  to  eradicate  most  of 
the  paint  from  his  hands  before  the  train  arrived. 
To  his  disgust,  however,  he  discovered  that  his 
coat  and  trousers  were  liberally  specked  with 
black,  and  when  Bob  told  him  cheerfully  that  the 
paint  wouldn  't  be  very  noticeable  on  mixed  goods 
he  became  quite  angry.  In  the  end  they  reached 
the  Academy  well  before  ten  o'clock  and  unob- 
trusively sought  their  rooms,  everyone  very 
weary  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  rather  short- 
tempered  by  now. 


CHAPTER  XX 

EVIDENCE 

COACH  CADE  was  pleased  with  Saturday's  game, 
and  said  so.  So,  too,  was  the  school  in  general. 
In  fact,  it  seemed  that  the  school  found  more  en- 
couragement than  was  warranted.  One  heard  a 
good  deal  on  Sunday  about  what  Alton  was  going 
to  do  to  Kenly  when  the  time  came.  Doubtless 
much  of  this  optimism  was  due  to  the  arrival  of 
Felix  McNatt  in  the  backfield,  which,  with  the 
placing  of  Proctor  at  left  tackle,  appeared  tr 
round  out  the  team  remarkably.  Certainly  there 
was  little  in  Saturday's  victory  over  a  palpably 
weaker  opponent  to  account  for  all  the  enthusi- 
asm which  spread  over  the  school  like  a  con- 
tagion. 

Sunday  afternoon,  walking  across  to  Academy 
Hall  to  post  a  letter,  Willard  encountered  Mc- 
Natt bent  on  a  similar  errand.  McNatt  showed 
evidences  of  having  played  football  recently,  for 
three  strips  of  adhesive  plaster  formed  a  star 
over  one  cheek-bone.  Having  dropped  their  let- 

250 


EVIDENCE  251 

ters  in  the  box  beside  the  entrance,  the  two  boys 
stood  for  a  few  minutes  and  talked.  McNatt  was 
evidently  a  trifle  discouraged  about  his  mission  of 
reforming  football  on  a  more  scientific  basis. 

"Mr.  Cade  says  there's  a  good  deal  in  it,  but 
thinks  the — ah — impetus  should  come  from  the 
colleges.  Now  I  don't  agree  with  him  there,  Har- 
mon—  By  the  way,  is  your  name  Harmon  or 
Brand?  I  heard  some  of  the  players  calling  you 
[Brand  yesterday." 

"Harmon.  Brand's  just  a  nickname." 
"I  see.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  don't  think 
[Mr.  Cade  is  right.  I  believe  that  if  we  fellows 
at  this  school  developed  the  game  along  the  lines 
jthat  you  and  I  have  discussed  so  frequently,  others 
;would  follow.  There — there 'd  be  a  movement, 
Harmon.  If  we  look  to  the  colleges  to  make  the 
start  we'll  have  to  wait  a  long  time,  I  fear.  In  my 
opinion  colleges  are  extremely  conservative  in  the 
matter  of  football,  especially  the  larger  ones,  the 
s — ah — the  leaders.  Of  course  I  realize  that  the 
season  is  so  far  advanced  that  any  extreme 
changes  now  would  possibly  militate  against  the 
team's  success.  Nevertheless,  I  am  hoping  that 
OMr.  Cade  will  decide  to  experiment  in  a  small  way. 
I  have  spoken  to  quite  a  number  of  the  players 
and  they  all  appeared  most  interested.  In  fact, 


252  LEFT  HALF  HAEMON 

I  don't  recall  that  any  of  them  offered  a  serious 
criticism." 

"I  guess  it'll  take  time,"  murmured  Willard. 
"Great  ideas  generally  have  to — to  overcome  a 
good  deal  of  opposition,  don't  you  think?  How 
does  it  seem  to  be  playing  again,  McNatt  f ' ' 

The  full-back's  face  lighted.  "Splendid,"  he 
replied.  "Do  you  know,  Harmon,  I  didn't  sup- 
pose I  could  find  so  much  pleasure  in  the  game 
again.  Of  course  I  realize  that  I'm  still  rather 
stale,  but  it's  coming  back  to  me,  it's  coming 
back."  McNatt  nodded  gravely.  "I  make  mis- 
takes and  I'm  frightfully  slow,  but  with  practice 
I'll  improve.  At  least,  I  hope  to,"  he  corrected 
modestly.  "It's  possible,  though,  that  I  shan't  do 
as  well  as  I  should.  The  fact  is,  Harmon,  I'm 
conscious  of  the  variance  of  thought  that  exists 
between  those  in  charge  of  the  team  and  me.  I 
approach  the  problem  confronting  us  scientific- 
ally. They  approach  it  in  the  old  hit-or-miss 
style.  I  strive  not  to  let  the  lack  of — shall  I  say? 
— harmony  trouble  me,  but  I  fear  it  does  at  times. 
So  often,  when  the  quarter-back  signals  one  play, 
I  know  that  the  situation  calls  for  another,  and 
I  fear  that  the  absence  of  a  sympathetic  approval 
of  the  play  demanded  sometimes — ah — uncon- 
sciously reduces  my  enthusiasm  for  it.  And, 


EVIDENCE  253 

really,  one  must  be  thoroughly  convinced  of  the 
propriety  of  a  play  before  one  can  go  into  it 
wholeheartedly,  just  as  one  must  be  convinced 
as  to  any  other  act.  You  see  what  I  mean, 
Harmon?" 

1  'Oh,  absolutely,"  answered  Willard,  "abso- 
lutely! But,  really,  McNatt,  I  wouldn't  trouble 
much  about  that.  Seems  to  me  you've  been  play- 
ing a  mighty  sweet  game." 

"You  think  so?"  asked  the  other  doubtfully. 
"I  don't  know.  If  only  it  was  possible  to  give 
reasoning  thought  to  the  conduct  of  the  game! 
But  it  will  come,  I'm  certain  of  that.  Meanwhile 
I  shall  do  the  best  I  can." 

"I'm  sure  of  that,"  said  Willard  earnestly. 

"There's  just  one  thing  that  might  happen," 
resumed  McNatt  as  they  strolled  away  from 
Academy,  knitting  his  brows.  "Some  time  that 
quarter-back — is  his  name  Tarbox?" 

"Tarver,  Gilbert  Tarver,"  replied  Willard 
gravely. 

"I  think  I've  called  him  Tarbox  several  times. 
Well,  as  I  was  saying,  there  is  a  possibility  that 
some  time  he  may  call  a  play  that  I  shall  sub- 
consciously rebel  against  and,  under  a  certain 
mental  condition,  it  might  be  that  I  would — ah— 
spill  the  beans." 


254  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

Willard  went  off  into  a  gale  of  laughter.  Me- 
Natt  viewed  him  in  mild  surprise.  ''I'm  afraid," 
he  said,  gently  reproving,  "the  result  would  be 
far  from  humorous.  It  is  conceivable  that  it 
migkt,  happening  at  a  crucial  moment  in 
the  contest,  even  prove  disastrous  to  our  for- 
tunes!" 

"I— I  wasn't  laughing  at  that,"  moaned  Wil- 
lard, wiping  his  streaming  eyes.  "I  was  laugh- 
ing at — at  your  slang!" 

"Slang?  Oh!"  McNatt  smiled.  "I  dare  say 
it  did  sound  queer.  I  pick  up  quite  a  good  deal  of 
slang  from  Winfred.  Well,  I  must  get  back.  I'm 
working  on  a  plan  that  will,  I  think,  produce  more 
certainty  of  result  to  the  kick-off.  You  may  have 
noticed  how  seldom  the  team  in  possession  of 
the  ball  at  the  kick-off  is  able  to  concentrate  de- 
fensively in  the  locality  of  the  catch.  My  idea,  if 
it  proves  practical— and  I  think  it  will — would  en- 
able the  team  to  know  where  the  ball  would  de- 
scend and  so  concentrate  on  that  point.  Well, 
I'll  see  you  again,  Harmon." 

Willard  reported  the  conversation  to  Martin, 
who  was  doing  his  best  today  to  convince  himself 
that  what  had  every  appearance  of  a  cold  in  the 
head  was  merely  a  touch  of  hay  fever,  and  Mar- 
tin mixed  laughter  with  his  sniffles.  "The  poor 


EVIDENCE  255 

nut,"  hie  said.  "He'd  try  to  introduce  science 
into  eating  a  fried  egg  if  he  thought  of  it !  How 
the  dickens  can  the  team  know  where  a  kick-off 
is  going  to  land  when  the  fellow  who  kicks  the 
ball  doesn't  know  himself  half  the  time?  I  sup- 
pose his  idea  is  to  have  the  ball  brought  back  if 
it  doesn't  go  where  it's  expected  to!  Say,  Brand, 
remind  me  to  get  a  Darlington  paper  tomorrow, 
will  you?  There  ought  to  be  something  about  last 
night's  job  in  it.  I'll  bet  those  fresh  chumps  over 
at  Hillsport  are  hopping  mad  today!" 

< '  That 's  a  safe  bet, ' '  laughed  Willard.  ' '  I  only 
hope  they're  not  mad  enough  to  raise  a  row  about 

it  " 

11.  , 

"How  could  they?"  asked  Martin  indignantly. 
"Didn't  they  do  the  same  thing  to  us  last  fall? 
Much  good  it  would  do  'em  if  they  did  get  sore ! 
I  guess  faculty  would  have  a  pretty  good  come- 
back, son!  Anyhow,  you  should  worry.  You 
didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  Any  more 
than  I  did,"  added  Martin  after  a  moment. 

Willard  laughed.  "It  sounds  fine  the  way  you 
say  it,  Mart,"  he  answered,  "but  I  guess  faculty 
would  have  a  lot  of  trouble  getting  your  point  of 
view.  We  were  right  there,  old  chap,  and  we 
even  kept  watch  while  the — the  nefarious  deed 
was  perpetrated." 


256  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Where  do  you  get  that  talk?"  demanded  Mar- 
tin, punctuating  the  question  with  three  mighty 
sneezes.  "You'd  better  keep  away  from  McNatt, 
son.  You're  catching  it!  Brand,  just  so  long  as 
my  conscience  is  at  rest  I  care  naught  for  what 
faculty  may  say  or  do.  And  I've  got  what  is 
prohably  the  most  restful  conscience  in  cap- 
tivity!" 

"Well,  I  guess  Hillsport's  too  good  a  sport  to 
make  a  howl,"  replied  Willard.  "Gal's  clothes 
are  simply  covered  with  paint,  Bob  says.  And  he 
doesn't  dare  wear  them  for  fear  faculty  might 
notice  and  get  a  line  on  what  happened.  He's 
going  to  smuggle  them  over  to  the  tailor's  and 
have  'em  cleaned." 

"Well,  he  would  have  a  hand  in  it,"  said  Mar- 
tin complacently.  "You  didn't  see  me  begging  to 
be  allowed  to  desecrate  the  walls  of  the  dear  old 
town,  did  you?  I  knew  better.  Paint  always 
spatters,  especially  when  you  try  to  put  it  on 
bricks.  I  could  have  told  Cal  that,  but  he's  so 
blamed  knowing  that  he  wouldn't  have  paid  any 
attention  to  me."  Martin  sneezed  again  and 
shook  his  head.  "It  was  coming  over  in  that  old 
trolley  that  gave  me  this  cold.  I  guess  I  got 
worse  than  a  spoiled  suit  out  of  the  adventure. 
If  I  don't  manage  to  break  this  up  tonight  I'll 


EVIDENCE  257 

be  out  of  football  for  days!  I  know  these  colds 
of  mine." 

"I  thought  you  said  it  was  hay-fever,"  re- 
marked Willard  innocently. 

Martin  growled.  "It's  more  than  a  month  too 
late  for  hay-fever,  I  guess."  He  seized  his  hand- 
kerchief, opened  his  mouth  and  twitched  his  nose. 
Nothing  happened,  however,  and  he  relapsed 
again,  with  a  dismal  shake  of  his  head.  "It's  get- 
ting worse  all  the  time,"  he  muttered.  "Is  there 
a  window  open  anywhere?" 

"No,  but  I'll  open  one,"  answered  Willard 
obligingly. 

"Don't  be  a  silly  ass,"  requested  the  other.  "If 
you  had  this  grippe  you  wouldn't  be  so  plaguey 
comic!" 

"It's  growing  fast,"  laughed  Willard.  "An 
hour  ago  it  was  just  hay-fever.  Then  it  was  a 
cold.  Now  it's  grippe.  Better  see  a  doctor,  Mart, 
before  pneumonia  sets  in!" 

"Oh,  shut  up!    What  time  is  it?" 

"Almost  time  for  supper.  What  shall  I  bring 
you?  Do  you  care  for  milk-toast!" 

"I  do  not !  And  I'll  look  after  my  own  supper. 
I  guess  maybe  some  food  will  do  me  good.  If  it 
turned  out  to  be  influenza  I'd  be  all  the  better  for 
having  lots  of  strength.  It's  weakened  constitu- 


258  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

tions  that  cause  so  many  fatalities.  A  fellow 
wants  power  of  resistance,  I  guess." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,  but  a  clean 
handkerchief  wouldn't  hurt!" 

Monday  introduced  real  November  weather. 
The  sky  was  overcast  when  Willard  piled  out  of 
bed  in  the  morning,  and  a  cold  breeze  was  blow- 
ing from  the  east.  Eadiators  were  sizzling  and 
the  bath-robed,  gossiping  groups  were  noticeably 
absent  from  the  corridor  when  he  set  forth 
for  the  lavatory.  Winter  was  in  the  air, 
•and  the  coffee  at  breakfast  never  tasted  so 
•good. 

It  was  just  before  ten  that  Willard  received  the 
disturbing  message  from  the  school  office.  Mr. 
Wharton,  the  secretary,  desired  to  see  him  im- 
mediately after  twelve.  Oddly,  perhaps,  Willard 
failed  to  connect  the  summons  with  the  Hillsport 
episode  for  some  time.  All  during  his  ten  o'clock 
recitation  he  subconsciously  tried  to  think  of  some 
neglected  study  or  duty  that  would  account  for 
the  secretary's  desire  for  his  company,  and  it 
wasn't  until  he  had  disposed  of  that  explanation 
by  the  slow  process  of  elimination  that  Saturday 
night's  affair  obtruded  itself. 

He  didn't  allow  that  to  alarm  him,  though. 
After  all,  a  mere  prank  of  that  sort,  common 


EVIDENCE  259 

wherever  there  were  boys*  schools,  couldn't  be 
taken  very  seriously.  In  any  case,  he  would  get 
off  with  a  reprimand.  What  bothered  him  more 
was  the  question  of  how  Mr.  Wharton  had  man- 
aged to  associate  him  with  the  affair,  and  he  won- 
dered whether  Martin  and  the  others  were  wanted 
at  the  office  also.  He  hoped  to  run  across  one 
or  the  other  of  them  and  compare  notes,  but  luck 
was  against  him,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  released 
from  classroom  at  twelve  he  set  forth  a  trifle 
uneasily  down  the  corridor  to  the  office. 

He  had  to  wait  several  minutes  while  the  sec- 
retary heard  and  denied  a  freckle-faced  fresh- 
man's request  for  leave  of  absence  over  the  next 
Sunday  and  then  he  made  his  identity  known  and 
received  a  distinct  shock  when  Mr.  Wharton 
jerked  a  thumb  over  his  shoulder  and  said:  " Doc- 
tor McPherson." 

The  thumb  indicated  a  closed  door  across  the 
width  of  the  outer  office.  Although  Willard  had 
never  passed  through  that  portal,  he  knew  that 
it  admitted  to  the  Principal's  sanctum.  His  con- 
fidence waned  as  he  opened  the  gate  in  the  rail- 
ing, heard  it  click  behind  him  and  hesitated  before 
the  blank  portal. 

"You  needn't  knock,"  said  the  secretary,  over 
his  shoulder.  "The  Doctor  expects  you." 


260  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Willard  thought  the  latter  sentence  sounded 
horribly  grim! 

The  Principal's  office,  unlike  the  outer  room, 
was  large  and  spacious,  with  a  flood  of  pale  light 
entering  by  three  big  windows  that  overlooked  the 
Green.  A  half-dozen  mahogany  armchairs  stood 
about  the  room,  a  wide  bookcase  almost  filled  one 
wall  space  and  a  huge  table-desk,  remarkably  free 
from  books  or  papers  occupied  the  geometrical 
center  of  the  soft  green  rug.  At  the  desk,  his 
back  toward  the  windows,  sat  Doctor  Maitland 
McPherson,  a  man  of  well  under  fifty  years,  thin- 
visaged,  clean-shaven,  somewhat  bald.  He  laid 
aside  the  book  he  had  been  reading  at  Willard's 
entrance,  slipping  an  ivory  marker  between  the 
pages  before  he  closed  it,  and  nodded  pleasantly. 

"Harmon?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Bring  one  of  those  chairs  here,  please,  and  be 
seated." 

Willard  followed  instructions  and  then  looked 
inquiringly  across  the  few  feet  of  shining  ma- 
hogany and  green  blotting  pad  to  the  countenance 
of  the  Principal.  This  was  his  first  close  view 
of  Doctor  McPherson,  although  he  had  seen  him 
at  least  once  every  day.  Usually  the  length  of 
the  assembly  hall  separated  them,  and  just  now 


EVIDENCE  261 

Willard  wished  mightily  that  it  still  separated 
them.  Not  that  the  Doctor  looked  very  formid- 
able, for  he  didn't.  He  wasn't  a  large  man,  and 
his  strength  and  vigor  were  evidently  that  of  the 
mind  rather  than  of  the  body.  His  brown  eyes, 
rather  golden  brown,  were  soft  and  kindly,  and 
two  deep  creases  that  led  from  the  corners  of  his 
short,  straight  nose  to  the  ends  of  his  rather  wide 
mouth  suggested  that  he  preferred  smiling  to 
frowning.  Even  now  there  was  a  smile  on  the 
Doctor's  face,  although  it  wasn't  a  smile  that  en- 
couraged the  caller  to  emulate  it. 

"I  presume,"  said  the  Doctor,  "that  you  know 
why  I  sent  for  you,  Harmon." 

"No,  sir,"  answered  Willard,  honestly  enough, 

"Keallylf"  The  Doctor's  grizzled  brows  went 
up  in  faint  surprise.  Leisurely,  he  swung  his 
chair  a  little  and  opened  the  upper  left-hand  draw; 
beside  him.  Then  he  laid  something  midway  be- 
tween him  and  Willard,  something  that  by  its  ap- 
pearance seemed  to  desecrate  the  immaculateness 
of  the  mahogany  on  which  it  rested.  It  was  a 
crumpled  object,  white  in  places,  black  in  other 
places,  smeared  and  stiffened.  In  brief,  it  was  a 
white  handkerchief  befouled  with  black  paint. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  that  before,  Harmon!" 
asked  the  Doctor. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

BOB   SAYS   SO 

WZLLARD'S  heart  sank.  There  was  no  need  to  pick 
the  thing  up  for  closer  examination.  Its  crum- 
pled, distasteful  folds  showed  one  border  miss- 
ing, and,  if  evidence  had  still  been  lacking,  closer 
inspection  would  have  elicited  the  fact  that,  half 
obliterated  by  a  paint  smudge,  the  word  "  Har- 
mon" was  plainly  printed  on  a  corner.  It  was 
the  handkerchief  that  he  had  given  to  Bob  New- 
hall  Saturday  night  to  wipe  his  hands  on. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Willard. 

"When  and  where?"  asked  the  Doctor  quietly. 

"Last  Saturday  night,  sir,  at  Hillsport. 

The  Doctor  picked  the  object  up  gingerly  and 
dropped  it  back  in  the  drawer.  Then  he  closed 
the  drawer  slowly  and  gazed  thoughtfully  for  a 
short  moment  at  the  book  he  had  laid  aside. 

"I  have  received  a  very  indignant  letter  from 
Doctor  Handley,  at  Hillsport  School,"  he  said 
presently.  "He  tells  me  that  some  time  during 
Saturday  night  the  wall  of  his  residence  was  de- 
faced with  black  paint  in — urn— in  ill-advised 


BOB  SAYS  SO  263 

celebration  of  Alton's  football  victory  over  Hills- 
port." 

Willard  gasped.  "We — I  didn't  know  it  was 
his  wall,  sir!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Is  that  true1?  You  didn't  know  that  Doctor 
Handley's  residence  stood  at  the  corner,  across 
from  the  school  entrance?" 

"No,  sir,"  answered  the  boy  earnestly.  "I'd 
never  been  there  before,  sir." 

"But  the  others?    They  must  have  known." 

"The  others?"  stammered  Willard. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Doctor  gently.  "You  said 
'we'  a  moment  ago." 

Willard  reddened.  "I — I  corrected  myself," 
he  answered. 

Doctor  McPherson  smiled  whimsically  and 
shook  his  head.  "I  wouldn't  call  it  a  correction, 
Harmon.  You  see,  it's  extremely  unlikely  that 
you  would  have  engaged  in  such  a— such  an 
amusement  by  yourself.  Defacing  property  in 
that  manner  is  'gang  work':  I've  never  known  it 
otherwise." 

Willard  gulped.  "Yes,  air-  Well,  none  of  us 
knew  that  wall  was  Doctor — Doctor — " 

"Handley's?"  asked  the  Principal  helpfully. 

"Yes,  sir.  We  wouldn't  have  done  it  for  any- 
thing if  we  had  known.  We — we  just  wanted  to 


264  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

get  even  with  those — fellows  for  what  they  did 
to  us  last  year.  They  painted  green  signs  all 
around  town  here,  sir,  and  we  thought  it  was  per- 
fectly fair  to  get  back  at  them.  That's  all  there 
was  to  it.*' 

"A  very  silly  proceeding,  Harmon.  Defacing 
the  property  of  others  is  a  particularly  mean  and 
contemptible  form  of  mischief.  And  the  fact  that 
the  Hillsport  boys  indulged  in  it  was  no  excuse. 
Indeed,  the  appearance  of  your  own  town  should 
have  shown  you  how  atrocious  such  vandalism  is. 
I  sympathize  with  the  resentment  that  was  felt 
here  last  fall  when  it  was  found  that  Hillsport 
had  scrawled  the  score  on  our  fences  and  walls, 
but  I  do  not  sympathize  in  the  least  with  the  mo- 
tive that  led  you  and  your  companions  to  commit 
the  same  indecency,  Harmon.  Another  thing  is 
that  Hillsport  was  careful  not  to  deface  school 
property.  Indeed,  as  I  recall,  she  displayed  some 
care  in  the  selection  of  old  fences  and  such  places 
for  her — um — decorations.  In  your  case  you  seem 
to  have  tried  to  do  as  much  damage  as  possible." 

"But  we  didn't  know,  sir!"  protested  Wiilard 
again. 

"And  that  I  find  hard  to  believe,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  shaking  his  head.  "How  many  times  did 
you  paint  the  score  up?" 


BOB  SAYS  SO  265 

"Only  twice.  The  first  time  on  a  stable  or 
something.  We  looked  for  fences  and  things  like 
that,  but  there  weren't  any,  sir.  And  we  wanted 
to  put  it  where  the  Hillsport  fellows  would  be 
sure  to  see  it,  and  finally  we  found  that  wall!  It 
was  outside  the  school  grounds  and  we  didn't  any 
of  us  know  it  was  the  Principal's  house.  We 
wouldn't  have  thought  of  doing  it  there  if  we'd 
known.  It  was  just — just  a  joke,  sir!" 

"A  frightfully  poor  one,  Harmon!  Who  were 
the  others  with  you  ? ' ' 

Willard  dropped  his  gaze  and  a  moment  of  si- 
lence passed.  When  he  raised  his  eyes  again  it 
was  to  look  rather  miserably  at  the  Doctor  and 
shake  his  head.  "I  guess  I  oughtn't  to  say,  sir," 
he  answered  in  low  tones. 

"I  shan't  insist,"  said  the  Doctor  gently.  "I 
know  how  you  fellows  look  at  such  things.  I  can't 
help  reflecting,  however,  Harmon,  that  your  code 
of  honor  as  regards  matters  amongst  yourselves 
is  somewhat  finer  than  you  display  in  other  mat- 
ters. You  don't  hesitate,  it  appears,  to  daub  black 
paint  over  a  man's  brick  wall,  although  that  man 
has  never  offended  you  in  the  least,  but  you're 
outraged  at  the  mere  thought  of  giving  informa- 
tion against  companions  who  have  aided  you  in 
your  offenses.  Well,  you  shall  suit  yourself.  I 


266  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

think  it  my  duty,  though,  to  point  out  to  you  that, 
in  deciding  on  the  proper  punishment  in  your 
case,  the  question  of  whether  you  knew  or  did  not 
know  that  you  were  defacing  property  belonging 
to  the  school  and  occupied  by  the  school  Principal 
is  important.  You  tell  me  that  you  did  now  know 
and  that  the  others  did  not  know.  If,  as  you  say, 
you  had  not  been  in  Hillsport  before,  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe  what  you  tell  me  of  yourself,  but 
I  cannot  take  your  word  for  the  others,  Harmon. 
It  seems  to  me  extremely  unlikely  that  one  or 
more  of  them  did  not  know  whose  property  it 
was.  If  I  knew  their  names  I  could  question  them 
and  find  out.  As  I  don't  know  their  names  I  am 
forced  to  give  more  credence  to  the  probabilities 
than  to  your  testimony.  You  see,  Harmon,  the 
affair  looks  very  much  like  a  deliberate  insult  to 
Doctor  Handley,  and  it  certainly  calls  for  an  apol- 
ogy. In  apologizing  I'd  like  greatly  to  be  able  to 
assure  him  that  the  affair  was  merely  a  school- 
boy prank  and  that  the  depredators  were  not 
aware  that  it  was  his  property  they  were  defiling. 
But  I  can't  tell  him  that  without  more  evidence 
than  your  unsupported  testimony  affords  me.  Is 
that  clear  to  you?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  Willard  unhappily. 

"And  you  still  prefer  not  to  give  me  the  names 


BOB  SAYS  SO  267 

of  the  others !  Remember  that  I  shall  make  every 
effort  to  find  out  and  shall  doubtless  succeed." 

"I— I'd  rather  not,  sir,"  answered  Willard 
steadily. 

"In  that  case  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  Pend- 
ing a  decision  as  to  what  disciplinary  measures 
shall  be  taken,  Harmon,  you  will  observe  hall  re- 
strictions. I  am  very  sorry  this  has  happened, 
iny  boy,  and  I  hope  it  will  lead  you  to  a — um — 
greater  respect  for  the  rights  and  property  of 
others.  Good  morning,  Harmon." 

Willard  stood  up,  rather  pale  but  very  straight. 
"I'm  sorry  I  can't  tell  you  about  the  others,  sir," 
he  said  earnestly,  "but — but  I  don't  believe  you'd 
act  any  different  yourself  if  you  were  in  my  place. 
And  I'll  take  the  punishment  without  kicking, 
Doctor  McPherson.  But,  just  the  same,  it  doesn't 
seem  fair  to  me  that  those  fellows  should  get 
away  with  what  they  did  and  we — I  should  get 
punished  for  doing  no  more.  We  didn't  know  we 
were  painting  up  Doctor  Handley's  wall.  You 
needn't  believe  me  unless  you  want  to,  but  it's  so! 
What— what's  he  want  to  live  outside  the  school 
for,  anyway?"  Willard  ended  in  an  indignant 
wail  and  the  Doctor's  mouth  trembled  in  a  smile. 

"If  your  idea  is  to  shift  the  blame  to  Doctor 
Handley,"  answered  the  Principal  dryly,  "I'm 


268  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

afraid  it  won't  work!  You'll  hear  from  me  later, 
Harmon.  Good  morning." 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  murmured  Willard. 

He  found  Martin  hidden  behind  a  newspaper 
when  he  got  back  to  the  room,  and  so  absorbed 
was  the  reader  that  not  until  the  door  had 
slammed  shut  did  he  know  of  Willard 's  entry. 
Then  he  showed  perturbed  countenance  above 
the  Darlington  Daily  Messenger.  "Seen  this, 
Brand?"  he  asked  ominously.  Willard  shook  his 
head  and  took  the  proffered  paper.  The  Hills- 
port  correspondent  had  made  quite  a  story  of  it. 

VISITING  VANDALS  DEFACE  PROPERTY 

Saturday's  Football  Game  at  Hillsport  Com- 
memorated by  Smears  of  Paint 

"Hillsport,  Nov.  4:  This  town  awoke  on  Sunday 
morning  to  find  that  some  time  during  the  preceding 
night  vandals  had  been  at  work  with  paint  and  brush. 
In  a  number  of  conspicuous  places  the  score  of  Satur- 
day's football  game  between  Hillsport  and  Alton 
Academy  was  set  forth  in  great  black  figures.  To  the 
youthful  perpetrators  of  the  outrage  no  place  was 
sacred,  for  the  ornamental  brick  wall  about  Principal 
Handley's  residence,  adjoining  the  school  campus,  was 
one  of  the  sites  selected  for  the  derisive  inscription. 
On  Parker  Street,  the  stable  belonging  to  Chief  of 
Police  Starbuck  likewise  tells  the  story  of  Alton 
Academy's  football  victory.  Probably  other  instances  of 
property  defacement  will  be  found,  but  these  so  far  are 
the  most  glaring  that  have  come  to  light.  Indignation 
is  widespread  and  both  town  and  school  authorities 


BOB  SAYS  SO  269 

propose  to  use  every  effort  to  bring  the  guilty  persons 
to  justice.  While  complete  evidence  is  still  lacking,  it 
is  generally  believed  that  certain  of  the  visiting  party 
of  Alton  Academy  students,  over-excited  by  an  unusual 
and  unlocked  for  triumph  over  the  local  school,  re- 
mained behind  on  Saturday  evening  and  celebrated  the 
victory  in  this  reprehensible  fashion.  Indeed,  it  has 
been  already  established  that  four  or  five  Alton  youths 
were  seen  about  town  as  late  as  half-past  six  or  seven 
that  evening.  Unfortunately  for  them,  the  miscreants 
left  a  clue  which  if  followed  will  undoubtedly  lead  to 
their  apprehension.  This  is  now  in  the  hands  of  Chief 
of  Police  Starbuck.  We  understand  that  Principal 
Handley  is  already  in  correspondence  with  the  authori- 
ties at  Alton  Academy  and  that  the  wanton  defacement 
of  school  property  will  not  be  allowed  to  pass  un- 
punished. ' ' 

Willard  handed  the  paper  back  in  silence. 
Martin  grinned.  "Have  you  anything  to  say  be- 
fore sentence  is  passed?"  he  asked  sepulchrally. 

"Sentence  has  been  passed,  so  far  as  I'm  con- 
cerned," answered  Willard.  Martin  stared. 
Then: 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded  anxiously. 

"I  mean  that  I've  just  come  from  a  fine  mo- 
ment with  Doctor  McPherson.  That  Principal 
over  there,  Handley  or  whatever  his  silly  name  is, 
has  written  to  the  Doctor,  and  sent  that  clue 
along,  too." 

"Wow!"  muttered  Martin  awedly.  "Wha — 
what  was  the  clue?" 

"My  handkerchief." 


270  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"Good  night!" 

"And  sweet  dreams,"  added  Willard  iron- 
ically. 

"What  did  lie  say?"  asked  Martin  after  a  mo- 
ment of  painful  thought.  Willard  shrugged. 

"He  said  a  lot!  He  wasn't  so  bad,  though.  I'll 
have  to  say  that  for  him.  I'm  on  hall  bounds  until 
the  faculty  gets  together  and  decides  whether  I'm 
to  be  boiled  in  oil  or  merely  drawn  and  quar- 
tered. You  fellows  may  get  by  all  right,  though. 
I'm  the  only  one  they're  sure  of  so  far.  Why  the 
dickens  didn't  someone  say  that  that  brick  wall 
was  the  Principal's?" 

"How  were  we  to  know?"  demanded  Martin. 
"Why  doesn't  he  live  inside  where  he  ought  to  I 
Say,  we  managed  to  pick  a  couple  of  fine  spots, 
didn't  we?  It  was  a  clever  idea  to  paint  up  the 
side  of  the  Chief  of  Police's  barn!  Oh,  we  were 
a  grand  little  bunch  of  nuts!"  And  Martin 
laughed  mirthlessly. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Willard,  "we  surely  managed 
to  do  things  up  brown  while  we  were  doing!" 

"Didn't  you  tell  'Mac'  that  you  didn't  have 
anything  to  do  with  it?" 

"That  would  have  been  a  fine  song-and-dance!" 
jeered  Willard.  "What  if  I  didn't  do  any  of  the 
actual  painting!  I  went  along,  didn't  I?  Be- 


BOB  SAYS  SO  271 

sides,  there  was  my  handkerchief,  all  stuck  up 
with  black  paint.  He  didn't  waste  any  time  ask- 
ing me  whether  I'd  done  it.  All  he  wanted  to 
know  was  who  the  others  were." 

"You  might  as  well  have  told  him,"  said  Mar- 
tin gloomily.  "He'll  find  out  quick  enough." 

"I  don't  think  so,"  answered  Willard.  "No 
one  saw  us  come  back,  and  short  of  taking  the 
whole  school  over  there  and  letting  the  restaurant 
folks  pick  you  fellows  out,  I  don't  see  how  they're 
going  to  tell." 

Martin  brightened.  Then  his  face  fell  again. 
"We'll  have  to  fess  up,  Brand.  It  wouldn't  be 
fair  to  let  you  stand  the  whole  racket." 

"That's  a  swell  idea,"  answered  the  other  de- 
risively. "You  and  Bob  off  the  team  would  help 
a  lot,  wouldn't  it?" 

"We-ell — "  Martin  scowled  in  concentrated 
study  of  the  problem.  Then:  "Look  here,"  he 
said,  "a  fellow's  got  to  eat,  anyway.  Let's  go  to 
dinner.  Afterwards  we'll  find  Bob  and — " 

His  remark  was  interrupted  by  a  knock  at  the 
door  followed  by  the  entrance  of  Bob  himself,  a 
somewhat  troubled  looking  Bob  who,  without  no- 
ticing anything  unusual  in  the  looks  of  the  room- 
mates, plunged  into  speech.  "Say,  fellows,"  he 
announced,  lowering  himself  into  a  chair  and 


272  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

viewing  them  frowningly,  "I'm  not  quite  easy  in 
my  mind  about  that  business  the  other  night." 

"Really?"  asked  Martin.    "How  strange!" 

The  sarcasm  was  lost,  however.  Bob  shook  his 
head  and  went  on.  "No,  because  I  have  a  hor- 
rible suspicion  that  I  tied  that  handkerchief  to 
the  handle  of  the  paint  can,  Brand.  And  if  I  did 
they'll  find  it,  sure  as  shooting.  I— I  suppose  it 
had  your  initials  on  it,  eh?" 

Willard  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  answered 
gently. 

"Honest?"  Bob  perked  up.  "Then  it  won't 
matter  if  they  do  find  it,  will  it?  Gee,  I  was  get- 
ting sort  of  worried!  You  see,  I  thought  first  I'd 
given  it  back  to  you,  Brand,  and  then  I  thought 
I'd  thrown  it  away,  but  Cal  said  last  night  that  he 
sort  of  remembered  feeling  it  around  the  handle 
and  I  sort  of  half  remember  putting  it  there.  But 
if  it  didn't  have  any  mark  on  it,  we  should 
worry." 

"I  didn't  say  that,"  corrected  Willard.  "I 
said  it  didn't  have  any  initials,  and  it  didn't.  All 
it  had  was  'Harmon',  in  nice  big  letters." 

"Great  Scott!"  gasped  Bob. 

"By  the  way,  you  haven't  cast  your  eye  over 
the  Darlington  paper  by  any  chance,  hare  you?" 
drawled  Martin. 


BOB  SAYS  SO  273 

"No.  Is  there  anything  in  it?"  asked  Bob  anx- 
iously. 

"Why,  yes,  you  might  say  so.  Like  to  look  at 
it!" 

Bob  viewed  the  others  with  growing  disquiet. 
"What's  the  joke?"  he  demanded,  scowling. 
"What  are  you  two  fellows  so  blamed  creepy 
about?  Let's  see  that  paper!" 

Willard  and  Martin  said  nothing  until  Bob  had 
finished  the  story.  Then:  "Looks  like  we  might 
have  a  bit  o'  weather,"  drawled  Martin. 

Bob  laid  the  paper  down  softly  and  grinned  in 
sickly  fashion. 

"I'll  say  so,"  he  answered. 


CHAPTER  XXH 

ON   PROBATION 

BY  mid-afternoon  the  news  was  all  over  school 
and  conjecture  was  rife.  Alton  took  it  as  a  fine 
joke  and  laughed  and  chuckled  enjoyably.  Hills- 
port  had  been  paid  back  in  her  own  coin,  and 
painting  the  football  score  on  Principal  Hand- 
ley's  sacred  wall  was  considered  a  veritable 
master-stroke  of  genius!  Decorating  the  prem- 
ises of  Hillsport's  chief  of  police  was  also  looked 
on  approvingly,  for,  while  it  lacked  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  other  effort,  it  nevertheless  held  a 
touch  of  daring  that  kindled  youthful  enthusiasm, 
Some  of  the  seniors  shook  their  heads  and  soberly 
predicted  trouble,  but  others,  knowing  themselves 
innocent,  were  unconcerned  with  that  feature  of 
the  affair.  They  wouldn't  have  to  suffer,  so  why 
worry?  Oddly  enough,  the  identity  of  the  heroes 
remained  a  mystery,  although  many  fellows 
looked  wise  and  pretended  to  be  able  to  tell  a 
lot  if  they  would.  To  Bob  and  Martin  and  the 
others  it  seemed  impossible  that  none  should  re- 
call the  fact  that  they  had  remained  behind  when 

274 


ON  PROBATION  275 

the  car  that  bore  the  football  players  had  left  the 
school.  But  things  had  been  confused  that  after- 
noon and  excitement  had  reigned,  and  if  anyone 
did  recall  that  significant  fact  none  made  mention 
of  it.  You  may  be  certain  that  none  of  the  four 
jogged  the  memories  of  any  of  the  others! 

Hall  restrictions,  or  hall  bounds  in  student 
phraseology,  was  ordinarily  not  a  very  severe  in- 
fliction. You  went  to  chapel,  classes  and  meals 
as  usual,  but  for  the  rest  you  stayed  in  your  dor- 
mitory building  and  let  the  world  wag  along  with- 
out you.  You  were  allowed  the  freedom  of  the 
recreation  room  downstairs  and  you  could,  if  the 
hall  master  saw  fit  to  allow,  visit  other  fellows 
in  the  building.  So  long  as  you  were  not  engaged 
in  athletic  activities  you  didn't  suffer  greatly,  al- 
though after  a  few  days  the  regime  began  to  seem 
decidedly  monotonous.  In  Willard's  case  hall 
bounds  was  a  real  punishment  since  it  meant  no 
more  football,  and  he  had  very  dreary  thoughts 
that  Monday  afternoon.  As  required,  he  had  ac- 
quainted Manager  Boss  of  his  forced  absence 
from  the  field,  and  Ross  had  scowled  and  scolded, 
and  even  stormed  a  little,  but  had  not,  appar- 
ently, connected  the  fact  with  the  happening  at 
Hillsport  on  Saturday  night. 

Willard  didn't  dare  prophesy  to  himself  what 


276  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

the  outcome  would  be.  He  had  a  well-developed 
notion  that  fellows  had  been  expelled  from  Alton 
School  for  misdemeanors  no  more  heinous.  In 
any  case,  he  was  quite  certain  that  there  would  be 
no  more  football  for  him  that  fall,  since  even  if, 
by  a  miracle,  his  punishment  should  be  ultimately 
no  worse  than  at  present,  a  week  or  a  fortnight 
of  absence  from  practice  would  end  his  usefulness 
to  the  team.  Coach  Cade,  he  reflected  grimly, 
wasn't  going  to  hold  the  left  half-back  position 
open  for  him !  There  were  moments  when  he  felt 
somewhat  aggrieved  and  when  he  told  himself 
bitterly  that  it  wasn't  fair  that  he  should  be  made 
the  goat  for  the  whole  crowd.  But  second  thought 
did  away  with  all  that.  If  he  could  keep  the 
others  out  of  it,  he  decided,  he  would  do  it  un- 
grudgingly, even  if  it  cost  his  dismissal.  After 
all,  the  success  of  the  football  team  was  the  big 
thing,  and,  although  he  couldn't  help  any  longer 
with  his  playing,  he  could  help  a  whole  big  lot  by 
keeping  his  tongue  still. 

If  Willard  couldn't  visit  outside  Haylow,  there 
was  nothing  to  prevent  occupants  of  other  dormi- 
tories visiting  him,  and  after  practice  that  after- 
noon four  disturbed  and  perturbed  youths  sat  in 
Number  16  and  faced  a  puzzling  situation.  Mar- 
tin was  strong  for  confessing  and  making  a  public 


ON  PROBATION  277 

apology  to  Doctor  Handley  at  Hillsport,  in  the 
hope  that  the  Alton  faculty  would  be  lenient.  He 
was  decidedly  obstinate  in  the  matter,  and  it  took 
much  persuasion  from  Willard  and  Cal  to  alter 
his  view.  Bob  was  the  least  talkative  of  the  four. 
He  said  he  was  perfectly  willing  to  do  whatever 
the  others  decided  was  best,  but  he  offered  no 
opinions.  Bob  blamed  himself  for  the  whole  af- 
fair, from  first  to  last,  ignoring  the  fact  that  Cal 
had  originated  the  scheme,  and  insisted  that  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  his  carelessness  it  would  never 
have  been  connected  with  Willard.  Mea  culpa 
was  written  large  on  Bob's  countenance  and  Mar- 
tin's repeated  assertion  that  they  were  all  tarred 
with  the  same  brush— an  allusion  that  made  Cal 
wince,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  his  gray  suit  was 
costing  him  two  and  a  half  dollars  for  cleansing 
— had  no  effect  on  his  melancholy. 

In  the  end  it  was  Willard  whose  words  pro- 
duced conviction.  "You  fellows  make  me  tired," 
he  declared  impatiently.  "What's  the  use  of  go- 
ing all  over  it  a  dozen  times?  The  whole  thing's 
just  this:  If  you  fellows  squeal  on  yourselves  it 
isn't  going  to  do  me  any  good,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  and  it'll  just  about  bust  up  the  team.  With! 
the  best  right  guard  and  left  tackle  out  for  the 
rest  of  the  year,  what's  going  to  happen!  You 


your  places  in  the  little  time  that's  left.  "We'd  get 
licked  good  and  hard,  and  that's  all  there  is  to 
that.  As  for  faculty  being  lenient,  well,  maybe 
they  might  be,  but  you  can  bet  being  lenient  won't 
let  any  of  us  play  football!  If  we'd  done  some- 
thing perfectly  mean  and  putrid  I'd  say  fess  up 
and  take  the  medicine,  but  we  haven't.  We  didn't 
any  of  us  know  that  Doctor  Thingumbob  lived 
in  that  house.  We  were  just  playing  a  practical 
joke  and  the  rest  was  simply  tough  luck.  You 
fellows  just  keep  your  silly  mouths  shut  and  go 
on  and  play  football  and  lick  the  hide  off  Kenly. 
That's  all  you  need  to  do.  I'll  take  the  punish- 
ment, whatever  it  is,  and  keep  right  on  smiling. 
There's  just  one  thing  I  won't  stand  for,  though." 
iWillard  looked  at  Bob  and  Martin  fiercely.  "If 
I  get  canned  and  you  fellows  don't  beat  Kenly 
I'll  come  back  here  and  I'll — I'll  mighty  near  kill 
you!" 

1  'Oh,  dry  up,"  muttered  Bob.  "You  know 
blamed  well  we'll  claw  the  wool  off  those  guys, 
Brand!  You  don't  have  to  talk  that  way." 

"It  isn't  right,  though,"  said  Martin. 

"It's  as  right  as  anything  we  can  do,"  asserted 
Cal.  "We  haven't  done  anything  criminal,  even 
if  faculty  thinks  we  have.  Brand's  got  the  right 


ON  PKOBATION  279 

dope,  fellows.  There's  no  use  killing  off  the  team 
just  to — to  salve  our  consciences.  Look  here,  I 
don't  play  football.  I'll  go  in  with  Brand. 
Maybe  Mac  will  be  easier  if  there's  two  of  us." 

"Oh,  don't  play  the  silly  goat,"  begged  Wil- 
lard.  "What  good  would  it  do?  Where's  the 
sense  of  two  getting  canned,  maybe,  instead  of 
one  ?  Stop  chewing  the  rag,  for  the  love  of  mud ! 
And  pull  your  face  together,  Bob,  before  it 
freezes  that  way.  Gosh,  anyone  would  think  you 
were  going  to  be  hung!  You  fellows  beat  it  out 
of  here  before  someone  suspects,  and  stop  looking 
like  the  criminals  you  are!" 

Willard  carried  the  day. 

During  the  next  few  days  Doctor  McPherson 
summoned  various  students  before  him  and  ques- 
tioned them,  but  learned  nothing  new.  The 
weekly  faculty  meeting  was  held  Wednesday 
evening,  and  Thursday  morning  Willard  found  a 
buff  envelope  on  the  mail  board  in  the  lower  cor- 
ridor of  Haylow.  Inside  was  a  request  that  he 
call  on  the  Principal  that  afternoon  at  half-past 
four  at  his  residence. 

"Would  you  pack  up  now  or  wait  until  after- 
wards?" asked  Willard  smilingly  of  Martin. 
Martin,  however,  refused  to  treat  the  matter  so 
lightly,  and  growled  and  fumed  at  a  great  rate. 


280  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

At  four-thirty  Willard  pushed  the  button  beside 
Doctor  McPherson's  front  door  and  was  ushered 
into  a  book-lined  room  on  the  right.  The  Doctor 
arose  to  meet  him  and  shook  hands,  a  ceremony 
dispensed  with  at  the  office.  Then,  when  the  vis- 
itor was  seated,  the  Doctor  picked  up  a  typewrit- 
ten sheet  from  the  desk  and  handed  it  across. 

"Read  that,  please,  Harmon,  and  tell  me 
whether  you  wish  to  sign  it,"  he  said. 

It  was  a  letter  to  Doctor  Handley,  at  Hillsport 
School,  apologizing  very  humbly  and,  at  the  same 
time,  very  gracefully  for  what  had  happened.  It 
stressed  the  fact  that  the  writer  had  not  known 
that  he  was  defacing  school  property  and  was  of- 
fered "on  behalf  of  myself  and  my  companions 
who  participated  in  the  regrettable  act."  Wil- 
lard read  it  through  carefully  and  laid  it  back  on 
the  edge  of  the  desk. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "I'll  be  very  glad  to  sign 
it." 

"Very  well.  I  am  also  writing  to  Doctor  Hand- 
ley  and  the  two  letters  will  go  together."  The 
Doctor  dipped  a  pen  in  ink  and  handed  it  to  Wil- 
lard and  the  latter  placed  his  signature  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sheet. 

"Thank  you."  The  Doctor  laid  the  sheet  aside 
and  faced  the  boy  again.  "We  gave  some  thought 


ON  PROBATION  281 

and  discussion  to  your  case  last  night,  Harmon, 
and,  I  am  glad  to  tell  you,  decided  to  accept  your 
version  of  the  incident.  That  is,  we  reached  the 
conclusion  that  your  statement  to  the  effect  that 
you  and  your  companions  were  not  aware  of  the 
fact  that  you  were  defacing  Doctor  Handley's 
property  was  true.  While  you  have  been  with  us 
but  a  short  time,  your  hall  master  and  your  in- 
structors spoke  extremely  well  of  you,  and  that 
weighed  in  your  favor.  It  was  decided  that  you 
are  to  go  on  probation  for  the  balance  of  the  term, 
a  penalty  which  you  will,  I  think,  realize  is  far 
from  extreme.  Probation,  as  you  doubtless  know, 
requires  a  certain  standing  in  class  and  exemplary 
conduct.  It  also  denies  you  certain  privileges, 
amongst  them  participation  in  athletics.  I  may 
add  that  as  fast  as  your  fellow  culprits  are  dis- 
covered a  like  penalty  will  be  awarded  to  each.  I 
hope  this  will  be  a  lesson  to  you,  Harmon.  There 
is  a  very  distinct  line  between  harmless  fun  and 
lawlessness,  and  I  trust  that  hereafter  you  will 
recognize  it." 

Willard  returned  to  Haylow  too  relieved  over 
his  escape  from  the  extreme  penalty  to  let  the 
matter  of  probation  trouble  him  for  the  time. 
Martin,  returning  from  practice  shortly  after, 
performed  a  dance  of  triumph  and  joy.  ' 'That's 


282  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

great,  Brand!"  he  declared.  "I  don't  mind  tell- 
ing you  now  that  I  was  fearing  the  worst.  Of 
course,  I  didn't  let  you  see  it —  What  are  you 
laughing  at?" 

"Why,  you  crazy  chump,  I  could  see  all  along 
that  you  thought  I  was  going  to  get  canned! 
You've  been  about  as  jolly  as  an  undertaker!" 

"Honest1?  Well,  I'll  tell  you  one  thing  you 
don't  know,  son,  and  that  is  that  if  they  had 
canned  you  I'd  have  gone  along.  I  made  up  my, 
mind  to  that!" 

"What  good  would  that  have  done?"  jeered 
Willard. 

"Never  mind,  that's  what  would  have  hap- 
pened," replied  Martin  doggedly. 

"Well,  don't  be  too  care-free  and  light- 
hearted,"  laughed  the  other.  "Mac  says  that 
as  fast  as  you  chaps  are  found  out  you'll  get  the 
same  medicine." 

"He's  got  to  find  us  first,"  chuckled  Martin. 
"If  he  was  going  to  do  it  he'd  have  done  it  be- 
fore this." 

"Well,  I  hope  you're  right.  How  did  practice 
got" 

"Fine!  We  scored  three  times  on  the  second. 
Son,  we've  got  a  real  team  this  year!" 

"Who  was  at  left  half ?" 


ON  PROBATION  283 

"Mawson  most  of  the  time.  Longstreth  had  a 
whack  at  it,  too.  We're  going  to  miss  you  there, 
Brand. " 

"Much  obliged,"  answered  Willard  dryly.  "I 
guess  you'll  worry  along,  though.  What's  it  like 
to  be  on  pro?" 

Martin's  face  sobered  as  he  shook  his  head. 
"I've  never  been  there  yet,  and  I  hope  I  never 
shall,  but  I  guess  it's  sort  of  fairly  rotten!" 

And  so  it  proved  to  be.  While  Willard  was  no 
longer  confined  to  the  dormitory,  he  was  not  al- 
lowed to  go  on  the  field  and  was  debarred  from 
being  outside  the  school  property  after  six  in  the 
evening,  and  the  latter  restriction  meant  that  the 
movies,  unless  he  chose  to  attend  in  the  afternoon, 
would  know  him  no  more  until  after  Christmas 
Recess.  The  hardest  feature  of  his  punishment, 
however,  was  the  required  standing  in  all  classes. 
Marks  under  85  drew  frowns  of  disapproval,  and 
Willard  reflected  that  the  rule  that  kept  him  in- 
side the  grounds  in  the  evenings  was  not  such  a 
bad  one,  for  only  by  spending  the  evenings  in 
diligent  study  could  he  hope  to  scrape  through. 

Being  forbidden  attendance  at  practice  or 
games  did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from  wit- 
nessing the  game  with  New  Falmouth  High 
School  on  Saturday.  He  saw  it,  although  at  a 


284  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

distance  and  in  a  rather  uncomfortable  attitude, 
from  Felix  McNatt's  window  in  Upton.  McNatt's 
room,  while  not  on  the  end  of  the  building  over- 
looking the  field,  was  near  the  corner  and,  by 
opening  a  window  and  leaning  well  out  Willard 
could  see  all  of  the  gridiron  save  the  stretch  of 
it  close  to  the  nearer  stand.  Fortunately  for  his 
comfort,  the  day  was  only  mildly  cold.  New  Fal- 
mouth  High  was  not  a  formidable  antagonist  and 
Alton  had  no  difficulty  in  running  up  34  points 
while  the  adversary  was  securing  7.  Afterwards 
it  was  stated  throughout  the  school  that  McNatt 
won  that  game  single-handed,  but  that  was  an  ex- 
aggeration. True  it  is,  though,  that  the  full-back 
carried  the  ball  over  for  four  of  the  five  touch- 
downs and  was  largely  instrumental  in  securing 
the  fifth!  Willard  observed  from  his  aery  with 
mingled  emotions  that  Mawson  was  far  from  ef- 
fectual on  attack,  although  he  played  a  consist- 
ently good  game  on  defense.  Cochran,  at  right 
half,  had  an  off-day,  and  Moncks,  who  took  his 
place  in  the  third  quarter,  was  not  much  better. 
it  seemed  to  Willard  that  the  Gray-and-Gold  de- 
served a  larger  score  than  she  got,  for  she  fol- 
lowed the  ball  closely,  played  hard  and  showed 
real  end  of  the  season  form  throughout.  Two 
penalties  in  the  last  period  undoubtedly  saved  the 


ON  PROBATION  285 

visitor  from  a  worse  drubbing.  The  visitor's 
touchdown  was  honestly  earned  in  the  first  few 
minutes  of  play  when  Gil  Tarver's  forward-pass 
to  Lake  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  and 
a  blue-and-white-legged  youth  raced  thirty-odd 
yards  and  fell  across  the  goal-line.  A  nimble- 
footed  quarter-back  added  another  point. 

The  New  Falmouth  game  passed  into  history 
and  Alton  faced  the  next  to  the  last  contest  with 
confidence.  Oak  Grove  Academy  was  always  a 
worthy  competitor,  and  this  year  was  to  meet  Al- 
ton on  Oak  Grove  ground,  but  the  Gray-and-Gold 
had  reached  her  stride  and  the  only  question  that 
concerned  her  adherents  was  the  size  of  the  score 
and  whether  Oak  Grove  would  be  represented  in 
it.  Kenly  had  played  a  stiff  game  with  Lorimer 
Saturday  and  had  won  it  in  the  last  five  minutes, 
the  final  score  being  16  to  13.  Although  the  best 
Alton  had  been  able  to  do  against  Lorimer  was  to 
play  her  to  a  3  to  3  tie,  the  Gray-and-Gold  never- 
theless found  encouragement  in  the  Kenly-Lorimer 
game,  arguing  that  Alton's  present  playing  was 
fifty  per  cent  better  than  it  had  been  a  fortnight 
ago,  granting  which  a  meeting  between  Alton  and 
Kenly  on  Saturday  would  have  found  the  former 
easily  superior.  Whether  this  reasoning  was  cor- 
rect or  not,  certain  it  is  that  neither  players  nor 


286  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

adherents  doubted  Alton's  ability  to  beat  Oak 
Grove  Academy  in  most  decisive  fashion  at  the 
end  of  the  week.  But  this  was  before  Mr.  Kin- 
caid,  physics  instructor,  put  two  and  two  together 
and  beheld  a  great  light. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
M'NATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY 

MR.  KINCAID  was  a  dapper,  well-groomed  little 
gentleman  of  middle  age  who  wore  a  sandy  mus- 
tache and  squinted  engagingly  through  a  pair  of 
gold-rimmed  glasses  because  he  was  unusually 
near-sighted.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  instruc- 
tor had  removed  his  glasses  to  polish  them  and 
had  subsequently  mislaid  them  between  the  pages 
of  a  book  for  something  like  two  minutes,  things 
happened  in  Room  G  seldom  witnessed!  Being 
extremely  fastidious,  the  instructor  was  a  good 
customer  of  The  Parisian  Tailors,  who  occupied 
a  small  building  on  "West  Street.  On  the  preced- 
ing Saturday,  the  day  of  the  New  Falmouth  game, 
the  instructor  repaired  himself  to  the  tailoring 
shop  shortly  after  dinner  with  a  pair  of  trousers 
draped  gracefully  over  one  arm.  He  wanted  those 
trousers  nicely  pressed  for  the  next  day's  wear- 
ing, and  he  must  have  them  no  later  than  this 
evening.  Having  enjoined  Mr.  Jacob  Schacht  to 
that  effect,  he  remained  a  moment  and  watched 

287 


288  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

that  gentleman,  who,  by  the  way,  looked  most  un- 
Parisian  in  feature,  proceed  to  the  long-delayed 
cleaning  of  a  gray  suit.  It  was  a  peculiar  look- 
ing suit,  Mr.  Kincaid  decided,  viewing  it  through 
his  strong  lenses,  and  he  made  mention  of  his  de- 
cision to  Mr.  Schacht.  "An  odd  mixture,"  he 
remarked  agreeably.  "I  don't  think  I  ever  saw 
one  just  like  it,  Mr.  Schacht." 

"Them  spots  ain't  in  the  goods,"  chuckled  Mr. 
Schacht  in  an  un-Parisian  voice.  "They're  paint, 
Mr.  Kincaid.  One  of  the  young  gentlemen  at  the 
school  brought  this  here  suit  to  me  the  first  of  the 
week  just  like  you  see  it.  All  over  the  front  is 
them  spots,  Mr.  Kincaid,  and  I  says  'A  fine  job 
you  bring  me/  I  says,  'because,'  I  says,  'paint 
that's  already  got  hard  like  this,'  I  says,  'you 
can't  do  much  with  it,  Mr.  Grainger.'  So  much 
I  don't  like  it,  I  keep  putting  it  off,  sir,  and  here 
now  it's  already  Saturday,  and  nothing  ain't  done 
to  it  yet,  Mr.  Kincaid.  If  there  was  two  of  me  I'd 
?till  be  working  till  it  was  midnight  just  like  now, 
Mr.  Kincaid." 

His  interest  in  the  suit  having  vanished  on 
learning  that  the  peculiar  appearance  was  due  to 
specks  of  paint,  Mr.  Kincaid  sympathized  with 
Mr.  Schacht  in  a  few  well-chosen  words  and  with- 
drew. The  incident  did  not  again  occur  to  him 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY     289 

until  Tuesday  forenoon  when  his  eyes  again  fell 
on  the  gray  suit,  now  quite  commonplace  in  ap- 
pearance, adorning  the  form  of  Calvin  Grainger. 
Just  why  at  that  moment  Mr.  Kincaid's  thoughts 
should  have  reverted  to  the  last  faculty  meeting 
it  is  hard  to  say,  but  they  did,  and  he  recalled  the 
case  of  a  student,  whose  name  he  had  now  forgot- 
ten, which  had  been  before  the  meeting  for  con- 
sideration. That  student  had  used  black  paint 
to  adorn  the  brick  wall  surrounding  the  residence 
of  the  Principal  of  Hillsport  School,  to  the  strain- 
ing of  the  entente  cordial  existing  between  that 
school  and  Alton  Academy.  Mr.  Kincaid  removed 
his  gold-rimmed  glasses,  closed  his  eyes,  leaned 
back,  and,  while  Rowlandson  proceeded  to  prove 
how  little  attention  he  had  given  to  today's  les- 
son, added  two  and  two,  with  the  result  that  later 
on  that  day  Calvin  Grainger  called  at  the  office  on 
request  and  spent  some  twenty  minutes  with  Doc- 
tor McPherson.  When  he  left  he  looked  chas- 
tened to  a  degree ;  chastened  and  very  disgusted ; 
possibly  more  disgusted  than  chastened.  For,  as 
he  asked  later  of  a  very  troubled  roommate,  what 
was  a  fellow  going  to  do  when  he  was  asked  point- 
blank  like  that! 

4 'Of  course,"  he  explained  moodily,  "I  didn't 
welch  on  you  or  Mart,  but  he'll  get  you,  Bob,  be- 


290  LEFT  HALF  HAKMON 

cause  he  will  be  pretty  sure  we  were  together. 
After  that  he'll  get  Mart." 

"He'll  get  me,"  agreed  Bob,  with  a  sigh,  "but 
I  don't  see  how  he  can  connect  Mart  with  the 
business." 

"You  don't?  Well,  it's  funny  to  me  he  hasn't 
done  it  already.  He  knows  that  Brand  and  Mart 
room  together,  for  one  thing.  Fellows  who  room 
together  are  generally  in  on  things  like  that." 

"Sure,  if  they  happen  around  school,  but  I 
guess  it  didn't  occur  to  him  that  Mart  would  be 
with  Brand  over  at  Hillsport.  Maybe  he  won't 
think  of  me,  either."  But  there  was  very  little 
conviction  in  his  tone. 

"He  will,  though,"  answered  Cal  gloomily. 
"You'll  be  on  the  carpet  in  the  morning.  It's  a 
shame,  too.  It  doesn't  matter  much  in  my  case, 
for  I'm  not  on  the  football  team,  and  I'll  be  off 
probation  long  before  spring  baseball  practice 
starts,  but  you — "  He  shook  his  head  dismally. 

"Oh,  well!"  Bob  shrugged.  "What  has  to  be, 
has  to  be.  Might  as  well  face  it."  He  walked  to 
the  window  and  looked  down  on  the  darkening 
Green.  Cal  groaned. 

"It's  my  fault,"  he  muttered.  "You  fellows 
wouldn't  have  thought  of  it  if  I  hadn't  suggested 
it." 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY     291 

"It  isn't  your  fault  that  we  went  into  it,"  an- 
swered Bob,  without  turning.  "Don't  talk  like 
a  fish." 

At  noon  the  next  day  it  was  known  pretty  well 
all  over  school  that  Bob  Newhall,  Calvin  Grainger 
and  Willard  Harmon  were  on  probation  as  a  re- 
sult of  the  black  paint  episode  over  at  Hillsport. 
Bob 's  fate  brought  consternation  to  the  team  and 
one  of  the  worst  quarter-hours  Bob  had  ever  put 
in  occurred  when  Joe  Myers  sought  him  out  and 
said  what  was  on  his  mind.  Joe  took  it  badly. 

Martin  was  all  for  hurrying  to  the  office  and 
acknowledging  his  complicity,  but  the  others  per- 
suaded him  not  to.  As  Bob  said,  the  team  had 
suffered  enough,  and  it  was  Martin's  duty  to  stick 
as  long  as  faculty  would  let  him.  "Not  that  it'll 
be  long,  though,"  added  Bob  pessimistically. 
"They'll  get  you,  too,  in  a  day  or  so." 

Bob  was  mistaken,  however,  for  they  didn't 
"get  him"  until  Friday.  Even  then  they  had  no 
proof  against  Martin,  but,  knowing  that  he  and 
Bob  and  Cal  were  much  together,  they  shot  at  a 
venture  and,  questioned,  Martin  could  do  no  less 
than  confess.  He  acknowledged  to  Willard  that  it 
was  a  relief  to  have  it  over  with.  "I've  been  feel- 
ing like  a  thief  ever  since  they  got  you,  Brand," 
lie  said,  "and  I'd  have  gone  to  Mac  long  ago  if 


292  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

you  fellows  hadn't  kicked  up  such  a  row  about 
it." 

The  next  day  Alton  journeyed  to  Hubbardston 
and  met  Oak  Grove.  With  Eowlandson  in  Bob's 
position  and  Putney  playing  left  tackle  in  place 
of  Martin,  it  wasn't  the  same  team  that  had  rolled 
up  those  34  points  against  New  Falmouth.  The 
Gray-and-Gold,  thanks  to  the  spirit  displayed  by 
every  fellow  on  the  team  and  to  some  wonderful 
work  by  McNatt,  managed  to  score  a  touchdown 
in  the  third  period,  but  against  that  Oak  Grove 
made  two,  and  the  score  at  the  end  of  the  game 
was  14  to  6  in  Oak  Grove's  favor. 

The  school  felt  very  sore  after  that  game  and 
Bob  and  Martin  and  Willard  were  far  from  pop- 
ular. There  was  a  distinct  atmosphere  of  dis- 
couragement over  the  Academy  on  Sunday,  and 
it  didn't  lift  perceptibly  until  Monday  evening, 
when,  at  the  third  of  the  football  mass  meetings, 
Coach  Cade  made  an  earnest  appeal  for  support 
that  brought  the  audience  to  their  feet,  cheering 
madly. 

"We've  been  hit  hard,"  he  said.  " There 
wouldn't  be  any  sense  in  my  denying  that.  But 
this  is  a  fight  that  we're  in,  and  one  blow  isn't 
going  to  beat  us.  It's  just  going  to  get  our  blood 
up,  fellows,  and  we're  going  to  fight  harder  than 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY     293 

we  ever  thought  of  fighting.  We're  going  into 
the  Kenly  game,  maybe,  beaten  on  paper,  but 
we're  coming  out  of  it  victorious.  It  won't  be  the 
first  time  that  a  supposedly  weaker  team  has  won. 
It's  spirit  that  counts,  the  spirit  to  fight  and  con- 
quer, no  matter  the  odds.  And  that's  the  spirit 
Alton  is  going  to  have  next  Saturday.  There 
isn't  a  man  on  the  team,  from  Captain  Myers 
down  to  the  greenest  substitute,  that  thinks  we  are 
going  to  be  beaten;  there  isn't  one  of  them  that 
doesn't  know  that  we  can  win  and  will  win!  And 
I  know  it.  And  I  want  everyone  of  you  fellows 
to  know  it,  too,  and  to  let  the  team  know  that  you 
know  it!  We'll  do  our  part,  but  you've  got  to  do 
yours.  Will  you?" 

The  answer  was  convincing. 

The  four  on  probation  didn't  attend  that  meet- 
ing, nor  were  they  able  to  see  the  efforts  that 
Coach  Cade  put  forth  to  repair  the  team  in  the  few 
days  remaining,  but  they  heard  of  each,  and  each 
was  affected  in  his  own  fashion.  Martin  stormed 
at  his  fate  and  got  red  in  the  face,  Bob  was  very 
silent  and  pathetic  and  Willard  smiled  to  hide  a 
sore  heart.  Cal  was  frankly  miserable,  blaming 
himself  for  the  mischief  and  taking  the  misfor- 
tune to  the  others  perhaps  a  little  harder  than 
they  did.  Willard  dropped  in  on  Felix 


294  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

Tuesday  afternoon  before  supper  and  got  much 
inside  news  of  the  football  situation. 

"Rowlandson  will  probably  do  very  well,"  re- 
ported McNatt,  "but  Putney  isn't  the  right 
sort  for  tackle,  and  I  wish  Mr.  Cade  would 
see  it.  He  hasn't  the  proper  temperament, 
Harmon." 

"How  about  the  backfield!"  asked  Willard. 
"How — how's  Mawson  getting  on?" 

"Mawson  is  a  hard  worker,  but  he's  lighter 
than  he  should  be  and  he's  not  so  clever  at  find- 
ing the  holes  as  you  were,  Harmon,"  answered 
McNatt  judicially.  ' '  Cochran  is  remarkably  good 
when  at  his  best,  but  he — ah — fluctuates." 

"It  doesn't  sound  hopeful,"  murmured  "Wil- 
lard. 

"Oh,  IVe  no  doubt  that  we  will  win  from 
Kenly,"  answered  McNatt.  "You  see,  since  we 
lost  Proctor  and  Newhall  we've  come  together  a 
lot  better,  and  the  morale  of  the  team  is  much  finer. 
Kenly,  as  I  figure  it,  will  enter  the  game  fairly 
sure  of  winning.  We  '11  go  in  realizing  that,  while 
we  may  win  it,  we've  got  to  play  powerful  foot- 
ball to  do  it.  When  you  just  have  to  do  a  thing, 
you  do  it,"  concluded  McNatt  convincedly. 

Willard  considered  that  conclusion  a  moment 
m  ^ence,  a  silence  broken  at  length  by  his  host. 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY  295 

"I  presume,"  he  said,  "that  there's  no  hope  of 
Newhall  and  Proctor— and  you — getting  back  on 
before  Saturday." 

"Hardly,"  answered  Willard,  smiling  wryly. 
"We're  on  pro  for  the  rest  of  the  term." 

"I  didn't  know,"  murmured  McNatt  sympa- 
thetically. "Just — ah— just  what  was  it  that  hap- 
pened, Harmon?  I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  the 
rights  of  it." 

So  Willard  told  him,  giving  a  very  complete  and 
detailed  account  of  the  affair,  and  McNatt  lis- 
tened and  nodded  and  blinked  occasionally  until 
he  had  finished.  Then,  after  a  moment's  consid- 
eration, he  said:  "It  seems,  then,  that  you  fellows 
made  your  mistake  in  painting  the  score  on  the 
Principal's  wall.  I  mean,  you  did  no  worse  than 
Hillsport  did  otherwise." 

"We  didn't  do  as  much  as  she  did,"  answered 
Willard  resentfully.  "Those  fellows  painted  the 
score  all  over  the  town  here;  more  than  a  dozen 
times,  I  guess;  we  only  painted  it  twice." 

"Yes,  I  recall  seeing  the  signs,"  McNatt  re- 
flected. "Has  it  occurred  to  you  as  possible  that 
.  a  proper  presentation  of  your  case  has  not  been 
made  to  the  Hillsport  Principal  ? ' ' 

"I  don't  know.  Anyway,  what  he  thinks 
doesn't  worry  us.  It's  what  faculty  here  thicks. 


296  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

And  they  think  we  ought  to  be  punished.  And 
we  are." 

"I  see.  I  only  thought  that  possibly—"  Mc- 
Natt's  voice  trailed  into  silence,  and  he  remained 
silent  so  long  that  "Willard  finally  got  up  and  took 
his  departure.  McNatt  pulled  the  cord  that  oper- 
ated the  door  bolt  in  a  most  absent-minded  man- 
ner and  aroused  himself  from  his  abstraction  only 
long  enough  to  murmur  "Good  afternoon."  Out- 
side, Willard  smiled  to  himself  and  shook  his 
head. 

"McNutt!"  he  muttered. 

Usually  the  last  hard  practice  preceding  the  big 
game  was  held  on  Wednesday,  but  this  year  the 
team  was  kept  at  it  on  Thursday  as  well.  On 
Wednesday  the  second  team,  fight  as  it  might,  was 
snowed  under,  three  touchdowns  and  a  field-goal 
to  nothing,  and  on  Thursday,  although  Coach 
Cade  gave  the  ball  to  the  second  time  and  again 
inside  the  first's  thirty-yard  line,  the  latter 's  goal 
was  not  crossed.  On  the  other  hand,  McNatt  twice 
broke  away  for  long  runs  that  led  to  as  many 
scores.  The  mass  meeting  on  Thursday  evening 
was  more  enthusiastic  than  any  that  had  gone 
before,  and  the  cheers  had  a  grimly  determined 
sound  usually  lacking. 

It  was  on  Thursday  that  Martin  returned  to 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY  297 

Number  16  Haylow  just  before  dinner  time  from 
a  hurried  trip  to  West  Street  and,  tossing  his 
purchase  on  his  bed  and  warming  numbed  fingers 
over  the  radiator,  announced  with  a  chuckle: 
"McNutt's  got  a  new  line,  Brand." 

"What  sort  of  a  line?"  asked  Willard,  push- 
ing his  book  away  and  tilting  perilously  back  in 
his  chair.  "What  do  you  mean,  line?" 

"Photography,"  replied  Martin.  "I  met  him 
over  in  Bagdad  a  few  minutes  ago  taking  pictures 
of  the  stores.  It's  colder  than  the  dickens,  but 
all  he  had  on  was  a  muffler  around  his  neck." 

"What!" 

"Don't  play  the  goat.  You  know  what  I  mean. 
He  looked  awfully  funny,  standing  there  winding 
up  his  little  camera  in  the  middle  of  the  street, 
with  the  wind  blowing  a  gale ! '  ' 

"What's  he  photographing  the  stores  fort" 
asked  Willard,  puzzled. 

"Search  me !  Some  new  science,  I  guess.  He's 
a  queer  one.  Coming  to  dinner?" 

Friday  was  still  cold  and  windy,  with  leaden 
skies,  and  after  the  team  had  run  through  signals 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  and  the  backs  had  punted 
and  caught  a  few  times,  the  players  were  hustled 
back  to  the  gymnasium  and  straw  was  spread  over 
the  gridiron  in  case  of  a  freeze. 


298  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

The  excitement  and  suspense  that  held  the 
whole  school  that  day  affected  Willard  so  that 
studying  was  an  impossibility.  About  five,  as 
Martin  had  gone  over  to  Lykes  to  get  Eustace 
Eoss  to  help  him  with  his  algebra,  Willard  gave 
up  the  attempt  to  study  and,  pulling  on  a  sweater, 
wandered  across  to  Upton.  Number  49  held  only 
young  Fuller,  however.  "Felix  went  out  early," 
he  said  in  reply  to  Willard 's  inquiry.  "About  two 
o'clock  I  think  it  was.  I  guess  he's  photograph- 
ing." The  boy  scowled.  "That's  his  latest.  He 
develops  the  pictures  himself,  too."  He  nodded 
at  several  trays  and  bottles  that  claimed  a  corner 
of  the  table.  "This  is  a  rotten  hole  to  live  in 
when  he  gets  to  messing  with  chemicals.  Some 
day  I'll  be  blown  through  the  roof,  I  dare  say." 

"I  don't  think  photographing  chemicals  are  ex- 
plosive," responded  Willard  soothingly. 

"Well,  they're  mighty  nasty,"  grumbled  the 
other.  "He  stretched  a  string  across  the  room 
yesterday  and  hung  his  films  on  it  and  they 
dripped  all  over  my  books ! ' ' 

Willard  retraced  his  steps  to  Haylow,  very 
much  at  a  loose  end,  and  gloomed  in  the  darkness 
until  Martin  returned  and  switched  the  light  on. 
After  supper  that  evening  Bob  and  Calvin  came 
up  and  the  four  listened  to  the  singing  and  cheer- 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY     299 

Ing  that  floated  faintly  across  from  Memorial 
Hall  where  the  final  football  mass  meeting  was 
being  held,  and  talked  desultorily  about  the  game 
and  Alton's  prospects  of  victory.  "They  say,'* 
remarked  Cal,  "that  faculty's  holding  a  special 
meeting  this  evening  and  that  Rowlandson  may 
not  play  tomorrow. ' ' 

"What's  the  matter  with  Rowly?"  asked 
Martin. 

"Back  in  his  studies,  they  say." 

"I  guess  it's  just  a  scare,"  said  Martin.  "Who 
said  that  faculty  was  meeting?" 

"Harry  Johnson  told  me.  I  think  it's  so,  too, 
for  I  saw  the  windows  of  Mac's  room  all  lighted 
up."' 

"What  of  it!  That  doesn't  necessarily  mean 
that  they're  after  Rowlandson,"  said  Bob.  "That 
would  be  about  the  last  straw ! ' ' 

"You  hear  a  lot  of  silly  yarns  like  that  just 
before  the  game,"  said  Martin.  "Fellows  get  so 
excited  they'll  tell  you  anything." 

"I  wish  I  were  excited,"  muttered  Bob.  "Gee, 
it's  funny  to  think  of  the  game  being  played  to- 
morrow and  not  getting  into  it!" 

"Not  even  seeing!"  added  Cal. 

* '  That 's  worse  still,  "said  Martin.  *  *  I  don 't  see 
why  faculty  needs  to  be  so  blamed  mean.  It 


300  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

wouldn't  hurt  them  any  to  let  us  look  at  the  old 
game!" 

"Think  they  would  if  we  all  went  and  asked?" 
inquired  Willard.  "Doctor  McPherson  isn't  a 
bad  sort." 

"He's  all  right,"  answered  Cal  grudgingly, 
"but  some  of  the  others  are  pills.  I'd  say — " 

"We  might  try  it,"  interrupted  Bob  eagerly. 
"I'll  go  if  the  rest  of  you  will!" 

"I'll  go,"  said  Martin  promptly.  "He  can't 
any  more  than  turn  us  down.  Gee,  listen  to  that 
cheer!  They're  certainly  humping  themselves 
over  there  tonight!" 

"We'll  all  go,"  said  Bob.  "I  suppose  it's  too 
late  tonight.  Let's  do  it  right  after  breakfast.  I 
don't  see  why  he  shouldn't,  fellows." 

"Nor  I,"  growled  Cal,  "but  he  won't!" 

Long  after  midnight  had  rung  out  Willard 
called  cautiously  across  the  darkness:  "Mart,  you 
awake?" 

"Yes,  I  can't  seem  to  get  to  sleep." 

"Same  here,"  sighed  Willard.  He  thumped  his 
pillow  and  dug  his  head  into  it  again.  "Gee, 
you'd  think  I  was  going  to  play  tomorrow  from 
the  way  I  don't  get  sleepy!" 

"Last  year,"  said  Mart,  making  the  bed  squeak 
as  he  tossed  himself  into  a  new  position,  "I  was 


McNATT  TRIES  PHOTOGRAPHY     301 

asleep  before  eleven.  Let's  light  up  and  read 
awhile,  Brand." 

"Let's  try  it  again  for  awhile  first,"  was  the 
answer.  "  Maybe  if  we  stop  thinking  about  the 
game  we'll  make  it." 

"Yes,  but  how  are  you  going  to  stop  thinking 
of  it?"  sighed  Martin.  "Well—" 

Silence  fell.  The  half-hour  struck.  Presently 
a  gentle  snore  came  from  the  left-hand  bed,  joined 
a  few  minutes  later  by  a  second. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

ALTON   CELEBRATES 

CLOUD  and  sun  were  struggling  for  supremacy  the 
next  morning  when  Willard  looked  out  the  win- 
dow. The  tips  of  the  trees  were  swaying  briskly 
under  a  southwest  breeze,  but  it  was  evident  that, 
whether  fair  or  cloudy,  the  day  was  to  be  milder 
than  yesterday.  Already  there  was  a  wild  hubbub 
from  the  corridor  as  boys  raced  for  the  lavatory, 
and  football  songs  sounded  bravely.  Willard 
didn't  have  much  appetite  at  breakfast;  nor,  for 
that  matter,  did  many  of  his  table  companions  dis- 
play any  marvelous  enthusiasm  for  food.  They 
were  far  too  excited.  A  holiday  air  prevailed  and 
laughter  was  louder  and  conversation  more  inces- 
sant  than  usual.  At  intervals  the  broad  windows 
across  the  crowded  hall  lighted  up  palely,  making 
a  promise  that  was  never  quite  fulfilled. 

The  four  met  in  the  corridor  after  breakfast  and 
discussed  their  mission  beside  one  of  the  radia- 
tors. "Who's  going  to  do  the  talking?"  asked 
Calvin.  "And  what  are  we  going  to  say!" 

302 


ALTON  CELEBRATES  303 

"Bob,"  answered  Martin  and  Willard  almost 
in  unison. 

Bob  shrugged.  "I  don't  mind.  Anyway,  there 
isn't  anything  to  say.  All  we  can  do  is  ask  to  be 
allowed  to  attend  the  game.  I  don't  know  of  any 
— any  effective  argument  that  we  can  put  up,  do 
you?" 

It  seemed  that  no  one  did,  and  presently  they 
started  forth  for  Doctor  McPherson's  residence, 
the  Doctor  seldom  going  across  to  Academy  Hall 
before  nine  o'clock.  They  gave  their  names  to 
the  maid  and  stood  in  a  cluster  outside  the  library 
door  while  she  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the 
dining-room.  "Guess  he  hasn't  finished  break- 
fast," whispered  Martin.  "Maybe  we  oughtn't 
to  have  come  so  early." 

"He  ought  to  be  through  it  if  he  isn't," 
muttered  Bob  sternly.  "Anyhow,  we  can 
wait. ' ' 

Then  the  maid  appeared  again.  "The  Doctor 
says  he  will  see  you  at  the  office  at  half -past  ten," 
she  reported.  The  four  exchanged  glances  and 
filed  out.  Outside,  Bob  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"I  guess  he'd  have  turned  us  down,  anyway," 
he  said. 

"You  don't  know,"  replied  Willard.  "Aren't 
you  going  to  try  again?" 


304  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

"I  don't  believe,"  said  Bob.  "What's  the 
use  ? ' ' 

* '  Lots  of  use, ' '  declared  Martin  stoutly.  '  *  Let 's 
see  it  through  now  we've  started.  Come  on 
up  to  our  room  and  wait.  It's  nearly  two 
hours." 

In  the  corridor  Willard  stopped  at  the  mail  rack 
while  the  others  went  on  toward  the  stairs.  When 
he  overtook  them  he  held  two  buff  envelopes  in 
his  hand.  "Here's  a  billet-doux  for  you,  Mart," 
he  said.  "I've  got  one,  too.  Wonder  what's  up." 
He  pulled  out  the  printed  slip  and  ran  his  eyes 
over  it  quickly.  "That's  funny!  It's  a  date  with 
Mac  at  ten- thirty!" 

"So's  mine,"  announced  Martin.  "What  do 
you  suppose — " 

"That's  why  he  wouldn't  see  us  over  at  the 
house,"  said  Bob.  ' '  Say,  I  wonder  if  I've  got  one 
of  those,  too!  I'm  going  to  see!" 

' '  So  am  I ! "  exclaimed  Calvin. 

Left  alone,  Willard  and  Martin  went  on  up  the 
stairway  alternately  eyeing  the  slips  and  each 
other.  Martin  shook  his  head  troubledly  as  they 
gained  the  second  floor  corridor.  "I'll  bet  it's 
that  blamed  algebra,"  he  muttered.  "Peghorn's 
been  mighty  nasty  the  last  two  or  three  days." 

"Well,   I'm   all    right    as    far    as    I   know," 


•a 

3 
o 

- 


ALTON  CELEBRATES  305 

said  Willard,  frowning  thoughtfully.  "  Maybe 
Latin-" 

Hurrying  footsteps  below  interrupted,  and  then 
Bob's  head  came  into  sight.  Cal  followed  at  his 
heels.  Both  boys  were  plainly  excited.  "We've 
got  'em,  too!"  called  Bob.  "Same  hour!  Say, 
know  what  I  think?  I  think  faculty's  going  to 
let  us  see  the  game!" 

Martin  exhaled  a  deep  sigh  of  relief.  "Gee,  I 
hope  it  is  that!"  he  exclaimed.  "I — I  was  get- 
ting scared!" 

There  was  still  an  hour  and  a  half  to  be  lived 
through,  and  they  made  themselves  comfortable 
in  Number  16  and  advanced  numerous  theories. 
"Willard  went  so  far  as  to  suggest  that  perhaps 
Mac  was  going  to  let  them  all  off  probation,  but 
that  theory  found  no  supporters.  "You  haven't 
been  here  very  long,"  said  Bob,  "and  so  you  don't 
know  that  faculty  gang  like  I  do.  It's  a  sight 
more  likely  that  Mac  wants  us  to  tell  us  they've 
changed  their  minds  and  that  we're  to  be  shot 
at  sunrise!" 

Fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  appointed 
time  they  set  forth  for  Academy  Hall,  arriving 
there  with  thirteen  and  a  half  minutes  to  wait. 
They  joined  the  group  on  the  steps  and  listened 
half-heartedly  to  prognostications  regarding  the 


306  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

outcome  of  the  game  until  Calvin,  having  referred 
to  his  watch  for  the  sixth  time,  made  a  significant 
motion  of  his  head  and  the  others  followed  him 
inside  and  down  the  corridor  to  the  fateful  portal. 

"The  Doctor  is  all  ready  for  you,  gentlemen/* 
said  the  secretary  when  they  entered.  "Go  right 
in,  please." 

They  went  in,  Bob  leading  the  way.  Doctor 
McPherson  greeted  them  pleasantly  and  bade 
them  be  seated,  and  when  they  were  he  took  up 
a  paper  whose  folds  showed  it  to  be  a  letter  and 
fixed  his  glasses  more  firmly.  Then  he  viewed 
them  one  after  another  and  spoke. 

1 '  This  is  a  communication  that  reached  me  yes- 
terday by — um — by  special  messenger."  Willard 
thought  a  faint  smile  quivered  about  the  corners 
of  the  Doctor's  mouth.  "It  is  from  Doctor  Wil- 
liam Handley,  of  Hillsport  School.  With  your 
permission,  boys,  I  will  read  it." 

The  ensuing  silence  gave  unanimous  and  en- 
thusiastic consent.  The  only  sound  was  from  Bob 
when  he  coughed  nervously.  The  Doctor  ran  his 
eyes  over  the  address  and  began:  "The  young 
gentleman  who  bears  this,  Mr.  McNatt,  has  con- 
vinced me  that  the  incident  of  which  I  wrote  to 
you  under  date  of  the  5th  instant  has  been 
wrongly  construed  by  our  faculty  and  that  it  was 


ALTON  CELEBRATES  307 

neither  a  deliberated  discourtesy  nor  a  mischiev- 
ous attempt  to  cause  property  damage.  In  the 
light  of  Mr.  McNatt's  information  I  can  readily 
believe  that  the  proceeding  was  no  more  than  a 
prankish  attempt  to  retaliate  for  acts  of  a  sim- 
ilar nature  performed  by  the  students  of  this 
school  in  Alton  a  year  ago,  acts  which,  I  wish  to 
assure  you,  were  not  known  of  by  me  until  today. 
While  two  wrongs  do  not  make  a  right,  I  can  sym- 
pathize with  the  motives  which  actuated  your  stu- 
dents, and  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  letter  to  assure 
you  that  so  far  as  we  of  the  Hillsport  School  Fac- 
ulty are  concerned  the  unfortunate  incident  is 
fully  condoned.  As  a  personal  favor  will  you  not 
exercise  such  leniency  toward  the  offenders  as 
your  conscience  will  permit?  It  would  be  a  source 
of  deep  regret  if,  because  of  our  somewhat  hasty 
and,  as  we  now  conceive,  too  severe  arraignment 
of  the  young  gentlemen,  the  Alton  Football  Team 
should,  lacking  their  services,  meet  with  defeat 
tomorrow.  In  closing  may  I  offer  an  apology  on 
behalf  of  the  Faculty  of  this  school  for  the  depre- 
dations caused  by  our  students  in  your  town  last 
autumn?  I  assure  you  that  such  regrettable  acts 
will  not  recur.  With  the  most  cordial  greetings 
and  assurances  of  my  deep  respect,  I  am,  my  dear 
Doctor,  very  sincerely  yours,  William  Handle/." 


308  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

The  Principal  placed  the  letter  back  on  the  desk 
before  him  and  again  viewed  his  audience,  this 
time  with  a  frank  smile. 

"That  document,"  he  went  on,  "was  presented 
to  me  late  yesterday  afternoon  by  McNatt,  of  the 
Senior  Class.  Last  evening  I  called  a  meeting  of 
the  faculty,  young  gentlemen,  and  it  was  decided 
that,  since  the  Hillsport  faculty  desired  it,  it 
would  be  ungracious  on  our  part  to  refuse  clem- 
ency. So  it  is  my  pleasant  privilege  to  inform 
you  that  you  are  removed  from  probation.  I  need 
scarcely  point  out  to  you  that  you  are  chiefly 
under  obligations  to  Felix  McNatt." 

There  was  a  long  moment  of  silence.  Then  Bob 
cleared  his  throat.  "How — how  did  he  do  it, 
sir?"  he  asked  rather  huskily. 

"I'm  not  very  certain  myself,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  smiling,  "but  I  gathered  from  his  story 
that  his  most  potent  argument  was  a  collection  of 
a  dozen  or  so  photographs  which  he  took  around 
town  here  and  which  showed  that  you  boys  didn't 
exactly  invent  the  painting  of  football  scores  on 
walls  and  buildings ! ' ' 

I  might  devote  several  pages  to  the  Alton-Kenly 
game,  but  it  really  doesn't  deserve  it.  Seen  in 
retrospect,  it  was  not  an  uncommonly  enthralling 


ALTON  CELEBRATES  309 

battle,  although  at  the  time  there  was  excitement 
enough.  You  know  without  my  telling  it  that 
Alton  won.  I  think  she  would  have  won  even 
without  the  assistance  of  Bob  and  Martin  and 
Willard,  for  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  con' 
quer  and  I  don't  believe  that  anything  Kenly  could 
have  done  that  afternoon  would  have  prevented 
her  from  winning.  As  it  was,  Alton  showed  her 
superiority  from  the  first  and  the  outcome  was 
never  for  an  instant  in  doubt.  Coach  Cade  had 
pleaded  for  the  first  score,  for,  like  many  coaches, 
he  was  a  believer  in  the  axiom  which  says:  The 
team  that  scores  first  wins  the  game.  And  Alton 
gave  him  his  wish  when  Cochran  slid  over  the 
Kenly  goal-line  at  the  end  of  seven  minutes  of 
play  for  the  initial  touchdown. 

Alton  played  good  football  that  afternoon, 
played  better  football  than  her  most  hopeful  sup- 
porter dared  expect,  and  Kenly  was  fortunate  to 
get  the  six  points  that  came  to  her  in  the  second 
period.  Those  six  points  constituted  the  only 
dregs  in  Alton's  cup  of  happiness,  for,  after  Mc- 
Natt  had  hurled  himself  across  the  last  four  yards 
that  separated  the  Gray-and-Gold  from  the  Kenly 
goal  in  the  first  few  moments  of  the  second  quar- 
ter and  Macon  had  brought  the  total  to  14  points, 
it  seemed  to  Alton  that  she  would  not  only  win. 


310  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

but  keep  the  adversary  scoreless.  That,  however, 
was  not  to  be,  for  Kenly,  although  outplayed  dur- 
ing most  of  the  game,  enjoyed  one  flash  of  des- 
perate, heroic  and  successful  endeavor.  Getting 
possession  of  the  ball  on  Alton's  thirty-eight 
yards,  she  made  two  forward-passes  good  and 
landed  on  the  twelve.  From  there,  in  spite  of  the 
home  team's  savage  defense,  she  smashed  her  way 
to  the  seven  in  three  attacks  and  then  threw  over 
the  line  for  a  score. 

Yet  Alton  avenged  that  insult  in  the  third  pe- 
riod  and  again  in  the  fourth,  and  might  have  done 
so  once  again  in  the  last  few  minutes  had  not  the 
substitutes,  thrown  in  helter-skelter  as  the  end 
drew  close,  suffered  three  successive  penalties  for 
over-eagerness.  It  was  hard  to  pick  the  stars  in 
the  Alton  eleven,  for  not  a  man  stopped  short  of 
excellence.  Possibly  it  was  McNatt  who  shone 
the  brightest,  for  the  full-back  had  all  that  the 
others  had  of  skill  and  spirit  with,  besides,  a  cer- 
tain other  quality  which,  for  want  of  a  better 
name,  and  at  the  risk  of  ridicule,  I  must  call 
science.  It  was  McNatt  who  stopped  the  much- 
touted  Puckhaber  time  and  again  and  fairly  stood 
him  on  his  head.  It  was  McNatt  who  twice  hurled 
himself  across  the  Kenly  goal-line  for  a  score. 
And  it  was  McNatt  who,  flaming  himself  with  a 


ALTON  CELEBRATES  311 

white-hot  intensity  of  purpose,  constantly  encour- 
aged the  others  to  fairly  superhuman  efforts. 

But  to  speak  too  much  of  McNatt  would  be  un- 
fair to  the  rest :  to  Captain  Joe  Myers,  and  to  Gil 
Tarver,  who  ran  the  team  as  never  before,  and 
to  Bob  and  Martin  and,  finally,  Willard,  who,  al- 
though he  didn  't  see  service  until  the  third  period 
started,  played  a  wonderful  game  at  left  half. 
That  run  that  started  on  Alton's  twenty-eight 
yards  and  ended  on  Kenly's  seventeen  was  made 
by  Willard,  and  Willard  it  was  who,  near  the  last 
of  the  contest,  took  Tarver 's  long  heave  down  the 
field  and  added  another  dozen  yards  to  it,  so  pre- 
paring the  way  for  McNatt 's  final  touchdown.  It 
was  Alton's  day  all  through,  and  it  is  doubtful  if 
there  was  ever  a  more  stunned  and  disappointed 
team  than  Kenly  when  the  last  whistle  blew  and 
the  score  of  26  to  6  stared  down  at  her  from  the 
board.  That  single  touchdown  afforded  her  scant 
comfort,  it  seemed. 

Alton  made  merry  that  night.  There  was  a 
parade  that  wound  in  and  out  of  the  town  and 
back  across  the  Green  several  times,  and  much 
singing  and  much  cheering.  It  was  while  they 
were  perched  side  by  side  in  the  rickety  wagon 
that,  serving  as  a  chariot  for  the  heroes,  was 
drawn  at  the  head  of  the  procession,  that  Willard 


312  LEFT  HALF  HARMON 

said  to  McNatt  during  a  lull  in  the  clamor :  ' '  How 
did  you  ever  think  of  that  scheme,  McNatt?" 

And  McNatt,  smiling,  answered:  "Well,  Har- 
mon, there's  a  scientific  way  of  doing  everything, 
you  know.  And  that  was  the  scientific  way  of 
doing  that!" 


THE   END 


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